The Parent Trap
by Toringtino
Summary: Grimmjow and Ichigo, although madly in love with one another, are forced to go their separate ways when their lives prove to be too incompatible. A certain young Kurosaki, however, isn't quite willing to admit defeat just yet. GrimmIchi. Yaoi AU.
1. Part One

**Disclaimer: Hn, let's see... Oh yeah, I own nothing. Siiiiigh.**

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><p><strong><em>.:The Parent Trap:.<em>**

**_Part One_**

_He who makes a beast out of himself,_

_Gets rid of the pain of being a man_

A long groan was issued for the abrupt, and rather rude, awakening when the first lines of Avenged Sevenfold's _Bat Country_ blared from the tiny microphones in the old Motorola flip phone resting on a carved oak bedside table. The owner of said device scrunched his eyes shut tighter, burying his head deeper into the welcoming warmth of his pillow as he tried in vain to blot the infernal noise out.

_Caught here in a fiery blaze, won't lose my will to stay_

_I tried to drive all through the night_

_The heat stroke ridden weather, the barren empty sights_

_No oasis here to see_

_The sand is singing deathless words to me_

Growling lowly in defeat, the man begrudgingly slitted his eyes open, revealing captivating pools of crystallised cerulean set in ruggedly handsome features, including a straight cut nose, a strong, square jaw dusted with light stubble, and defined cheekbones. Rolling over onto his back, the man huffed out a weary sigh, scrubbing two large, work callused hands down his face before forcing himself – and with great effort it should be noted – into a sitting position. A few unruly bangs the colour of electric teal fell forward onto his forehead, not quite long enough to hinder his vision, but enough to be a constant nuisance. The rest of his thick tresses, which usually sported a seemingly blasé arrangement of untameable spikes, now sat mussed up on the right side of his head, and completely flat on the left where his head had been resting on the pillow. The dark navy sheets his body had been so warm and contently cocooned in not five minutes ago had shifted and followed his movements, now lying in a crumpled heap in his lap to showcase a healthy repertoire of hard, corded muscles and sharp cut planes, all wrapped up in tawny, sun kissed skin.

Anticipating the obvious 'bed-head', the twenty-eight year old male, one Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, ruffled a hand through his hair, a wide-jawed yawn escaping the depths of his lungs as he reached for his ringing mobile just as it started into the chorus. He dully noted from the luminous green numbers on his alarm clock that it was 7:52PM, which meant that he had been asleep for no more than two hours. _Fucking fantastic_. It was at times like these that he really hated the stress and ungodly demand of life working as a crime boss's goddamn lapdog.

Peering at the screen of his phone, blue tinted brows furrowed together in confusion. Figuring he was a lot more tired than his conscious had led him to believe, he rest the phone on his knee to forcibly rub the sleep from his eyes before checking the caller ID again. When he was met with the same information as before, he simply blinked, a whole myriad of emotions flitting throughout his system.

'_Berry'_; that was the name flashing across the small LCD screen. Fuck, he hadn't seen that name crop up on his mobile for a good, what, eleven months now. It had been even longer since he last talked to the owner of the number. So, it begs the question, why now? The man waiting on the other end of the line had made it perfectly clear that there was nothing left between them, had kicked the blue haired male right out of his life damn near a year ago after one heated argument too many – after one close call too many. He'd told Grimmjow it would be easier on all those involved to make it a clean break, to not only wipe the slate clean, but forget that it had ever existed in the first place.

Letting go of his younger lover had been hard, one of _the_ hardest things he'd ever had to do in his life in fact, and in the beginning, Grimmjow had given the other all kinds of hell over it. He refused point blank to just walk out of his damn life like he'd never even been there to begin with, fought tooth and nail for the younger to reconsider, to at least think it over and give him another chance. Never mind that that particular chance would be just one of a whole fucking ream that preceded it, but damn it all, they _belonged_ together, and Grimmjow believed in that simple fact with all his heart and soul. There would never be another, not even if he lived a million lifetimes over.

Thinking back on it all now, it borderline _galls_ Grimmjow to recall just how desperately he'd begged his lover not to leave him. He was Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, for fuck's sake! He didn't ask for anything from anyone, and he sure as shit didn't beg and plead and beseech. But, as bad as it was – and it was pretty fucking pathetic – he knew he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. Shit, if given the chance, he'd give getting down on his knees a go if he really thought it would make any difference.

And so, bearing all that in mind, you can probably imagine that seeing _that_ name flashing so fondly and familiarly across the little highlighted blue screen, and after so many months of communicative silence was, well…shocking, to say the very least.

His first thought, after the initial bout of disbelief of course, was anger. Potent, furious, seething anger. How _dare_ his ex-lover call him now? Was it not _he_ who had warned Grimmjow from ever getting in contact, telling him time and time again that it was the _only_ way their break-up was going to work? So what was this then? His ex was allowed to do whatever the fuck he pleased whilst only Grimmjow had to adhere to the rules? How was that in any way fucking fair? His lov–dammit, his _ex_-lover, had no goddamn clue just how fucking difficult it was for him to keep from getting in contact, how so many times, usually in a drunken stupor, he had pulled his mobile from his pocket and punched in the younger's number before he remembered that it wasn't his place to call it anymore. Oh how he longed to hear that sweet, honeyed baritone again. Fuck, he'd gladly accept hearing it through his _voicemail_, even knowing that the electronic edge would interfere and surely mar it. _Anything_ would be better than _nothing_, which was all he was used to hearing these days.

His second thought jumped straight to suspicion. What did he want? Why suddenly pick up the phone and call now? The blue haired male could maybe understand if he'd called a month or so after their, _urgh_, 'separation'. That's when most people recognise their mistakes, right? When they realise with a sudden and gut-wrenching clarity that they actually _can't_ function without the other by their side and welcome them back with open arms, yeah? Grimmjow figured that particular window of time to be a _maximum_ of two months. So, at nearly twelve months down the line, he wasn't going to go holding his breath for his peachy former lover to have suddenly come to his senses. The younger male may have been about as headstrong as a fucking ox, and as stubborn as a mule to boot, but even he would have broke before now if he was ever going to do it.

As much as Grimmjow hated to admit it, even to himself, he knew this wasn't going to be about a miraculous reconciliation.

Hence that now, after the process of elimination, his last thought rocketed straight to panic. What if something was wrong? What if he was hurt, or in trouble, or needed his help, or…

Without wasting another second on the possible consequences, especially if this turned out to be some twisted form of test, Grimmjow quickly accepted the call before it could terminate, his fingers trembling with adrenaline as he pressed the mobile to his ear.

"Ichigo…?" he asked, his voice quiet and slightly hesitant. Without even realising he'd done it, he sucked in a quick breath, holding it deep in his lungs so that all around him was silent. Finally, after so many agonisingly lonely months, he would finally get to hear that voice again…_his_ voice…

_Ichigo's voice…_

"No, silly Grimmy-Pa~ It's me, Nel!"

Grimmjow could feel himself rapidly deflating at the cutesy, girlish peal of Nelliel Tu Kurosaki; Ichigo's eight year old daughter. Letting loose his bated breath in one overdrawn, tiresome sigh, Grimmjow could feel his frantically pounding heart gradually returning to its typical rate and his entire body, which had been sitting bolt upright and coiled tight with tension mere moments ago, suddenly turn boneless so that his back rested against the headboard. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Grimmjow fought hard to keep the sheer disappointment from leaking through in his voice.

"Apple, sweetheart, what're ya doin' with your father's phone? Ya know you're supposed to use your own mobile when ya want to talk to me, that's the rule."

"I know, I know," the young girl replied, a childish pout implied in her impatient tone. "But my phone ran out'a battery, and this is an emergency!"

This had Grimmjow sitting up again, his mobile clutched tight in his hand. "Emergency? Whaddya mean?"

"It's Itsy-Pa, Grimmy! There's something wrong with him. Ya have to come quick!"

"Okay, just calm down, Apps, everythin's gonna be fine." Throwing the covers back, Grimmjow clambered out of bed, fighting his way into the closest pair of jeans to hand as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Now tell me, what's goin' on? What's wrong with Ichigo?"

"I don't know, he won't talk to me… He just stays hidden away in his room all the time, he barely eats, doesn't sleep… I'm scared, Grimm-Pa, ya need to come and help him! Please! What if he's sick? Or dying? Or–"

"Nels, breathe! Ya've got to calm down," Grimmjow instructed as he pulled on an old grey thermal and scooped up his black leather jacket from the floor. "Look, I'm on my way, so don't worry. Can ya put Ichigo on the phone, is he around?"

"No, he's locked away in his room, he won't come out."

Moving into his living room, the blue haired male pocketed his wallet and grabbed his keys from the coffee table, his heart hammering like a jackhammer against his ribs at both the prospect of actually getting to see his precious Berry again, _and_ at the possible danger he might be in. Steeling himself for whatever might be lying in wait, he walked out the front door of his two bedroom apartment, closing it with a resolute sense of finality behind him.

"Listen to me, Nels. I want you to go an' keep Ichigo safe, okay? I'm leavin' the apartment now, so I'll be there in about ten minutes. Don't leave the house, and don't let anybody else in, ya hear?"

"Okay, Grimm-Pa."

Grimmjow smiled in spite of himself. "That's my girl. Just hold on, I'm comin' for ya's."

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><p>A wide, triumphant smile graced Nelliel's lips as Grimmjow hung up, her excitement increasing tenfold now that the pieces of her master plan were slowly clicking into place. Using her father's phone to call him had been a genius ploy on her part – thank you very much – as it guaranteed a response. Ever since her father and Grimmjow had broken up, she had had very minimal contact with the older man. Ichigo had bought her a cheap mobile a few months back so that she could still call and text him, and on the odd occasion, when Grimmjow wasn't too busy with his 'work', he was allowed to come and pick her up – though only if Ichigo agreed, and even then the older man wasn't allowed to step foot into the house.<p>

Nelliel adored her time spent with Grimmjow, the man being like a second father to her. She'd always believed that he and Ichigo would be together forever, could see just how happy they made one another and the obvious, oftentimes sickening, love they shared. They were a proper family, and Nelliel couldn't have been more content.

And then the fighting began.

At first it was silly little things that all couples squabble over; bills, finance, stability. Nelliel was never worried though, because they always made up in the end, and everything would go back to normal. But then money suddenly _stopped_ being an issue, and her father had gotten suspicious, so they started arguing about that instead. Ichigo would get angry and upset when Grimmjow was late coming home, or when he didn't come home at all. And when he eventually did step foot through the door, Nelliel would be sent upstairs to her room. Sure she couldn't see what her parent's were arguing about, didn't know what had been thrown in a fit of rage when there were loud smashes and crashes, but that didn't mean she couldn't hear the shouting and the screaming and then, later on, when Grimmjow would leave either having been too furious to stay or after he was physically thrown out, she would hear the crying.

That was undoubtedly the worst of times, when she would quietly climb down the stairs, picking her way carefully across the broken shards of glass or china strewn across the floor, only to find her father with his head buried in his hands and his back shaking with anguished sobs. During those times, she would wordlessly crawl up into his lap and let a heartbroken Ichigo clutch her tightly to his chest, like she was the only lifeline he had left in the world.

Still, even that was never enough to tear the two men apart. Grimmjow would come back eventually, when everything had had the chance to simmer down, and then they would calmly talk it out, admit that they love each other, and that would be the end of it. There was even a time or two when the young girl had been the unfortunate witness to the blissful reunion of the two males, able to hear their zealous lovemaking even though her own room was located at the opposite end of the hall to her father's. She would bury her head under the pillow, if only to avoid costly therapist bills when she was older, but would find a large smile breaking across her mouth regardless. For as long as her parents were happy, then so was she.

But that fragile happiness wasn't to last.

It all happened about a year ago, when the Kurosaki/Jeagerjaques household was under the peaceful blanket of slumber late one summer's night. Nelliel was fast asleep in her room, whilst Ichigo was wrapped up in the security of his lover's arms in their own. Although it was fast approaching two in the morning, Grimmjow was only beginning to succumb to the tempting call of sleep's embrace, having just finished ravishing his delicious Strawberry not even thirty minutes previous; and it was all thanks to this little fact that he heard it – the infuriating creak of the fourth step on the stairs he'd been meaning to fix for months. To this day, he still praises the deities that he'd been too lazy to ever get around to it.

By the time the two hired thugs had broken into his room, he'd been ready for them, easily snapping the first man's neck and knocking the other out cold before he could even turn to investigate the noise. Ichigo had watched the entire spectacle with wide, panic-stricken eyes, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. A shrill shriek from Nelliel had both men standing to attention, Grimmjow grimly realising that there was at least one more intruder, and Ichigo fearing for the safety of his little girl. When Grimmjow had told him to stay put until he got back, he'd argued that there was no way on God's green earth he was abandoning Nelliel when she needed him, but when the blunette suddenly pulled a 9mm Glock 19 handgun from under a hidden panel in the floorboards, Ichigo had been stunned into utter compliance. It wasn't until he heard the thunderous boom of a gunshot resonate throughout the otherwise deathly silent abode, that he finally kicked himself into gear and stumbled down the hall to his daughter's bedroom.

At first he was relieved beyond words to find both Nelliel and Grimmjow safe, his little girl curled protectively in the burly arms of his blue haired lover, but upon seeing the dead body of the executed assailant, and the resulting blood spattered not only all over the floor and walls, but flecks of the vile crimson liquid coating his trembling daughter, he just knew that that was it. Enough was enough. He could live with knowing that Grimmjow worked for a crime syndicate, could tolerate knowing that his own life could be at risk because of it, but he could not, and would not, abide knowing that Nelliel was in danger.

Nelliel remembers_ a lot_ of fighting after that night, remembers having to move house, and transferring to a different school. She also remembers her father giving her a lot of false smiles and hollow promises, telling her stuff like; "Everything will be better from now on", and "We have a whole new future to look forward to" – but she didn't _want_ a new future. She wanted the old one back, the one where her father could talk, and even _look_ at Grimmjow without the two of them jumping down each other's throats.

If you asked her, they were both being stubborn idiots! She knew that Ichigo missed Grimmjow, if mumbling his name in his sleep and staring at his number on his phone like he was longing to hit the call button were anything to go by, and it was no secret that Grimmjow was struggling just as hard without Ichigo when their rare days out together consisted of an hour long bombardment of questions like; "How's he doin'?", "Is anyone givin' him any hassle?", and even the odd "Does he ever mention me?"

It broke her heart to see the two of them so damn miserable because both were too proud to step up and admit that they'd made a mistake, that they could never truly be happy without the other there to make it happen. They _belonged_ together, it really was as simple as that, but if they were too darn stupid to see that much on their own, then it was up to her to _make_ them see it.

As she sat now, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and grinned. She'd held up on her end; Grimmjow was on his way to them right now, and, so long as he wasn't late, everything should go according to plan.

Letting herself fall back onto her mattress, the young girl gave a wistful sigh. "Phase one; complete."

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><p>It was just past eight in the evening, and Ichigo found himself sitting perched at the bottom of his spacious, queen sized bed, elbows resting on his bouncing knees and his slender fingers tangled through his bright hair. He had a date tonight, and that age-old feeling of butterflies in his stomach was plaguing him, only to him it felt more like a horde of agitated bats, their wings scrapping at his insides and making him feel decidedly queasy. He knew he was being absolutely ridiculous – he was twenty-six for heaven's sakes! More so, as far as he was concerned, he was a free agent now, and had been for the last eleven months, ever since he and Grimm…<p>

Ah, whoa. Let's back it up there, before we start delving into dangerous territory.

Forcing a deep, calming breath in through his nose, he lifted his head to glance up into the full-length mirror covering the front of his sliding door wardrobe. Youthful features; high cheekbones, shimmering ochre eyes, lightly freckled, peach hued skin, and a head full of shocking tangerine spikes, all stared back at him. Standing up, he gave himself a critical once over. He wanted to wear something halfway decent, something that said he'd put in the effort, but at the same time didn't come across as desperate for approval or anything. Hence he'd settled on a pair of black drainpipe jeans, a crisp white shirt, black waistcoat, and a pair of grey chucks. He'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows for a more casual look, had a silver watch on his left wrist, a leather cuff bracelet on his right, and a thick silver chain encircled around his neck. As it was, he couldn't stop pulling and fidgeting with the damn thing. The necklace, that was. It had been a gift from Grimmjow for their one year anniversary, and he just couldn't find it within himself to throw it away.

The necklace, and one ratty old grey sweatshirt the older male used to wear when he went out for his early morning jogs, were the only two mementos he'd kept, everything else had been packed into bin bags and thrown out on the lawn for the blunette to collect – or the trash men, whichever came first. He couldn't deny that he loved the gift, nor that it looked damn good on him, but then again Grimmjow always did have an exceptionally keen eye when it came to jewellery. Still, surely it wasn't very good etiquette to wear something your ex gave you when heading out on a date, right?

Unclasping the latch from the nape of his neck for what felt like the umpteenth time, Ichigo laid the chain out on the bed in an almost reverent fashion before walking from the room and gently closing the door behind him. Wandering down the hall, he stopped in to check up Nelliel, knocking softly on the painted pink door before stepping in. A fond smile touched his lips when he found her sprawled out on her bed, her long, sea-foam green hair swept up into a messy ponytail and her continuously developing body clad in her favourite yellow nightdress. He frowned however, when he noticed what she had clasped in her tiny clutches.

"Uh, Nelly? Why do you have my mobile?" he asked, patting his pocket in case he was imagining things. He certainly didn't remember the little imp taking it.

Nelliel beamed innocently up at her father, he large wheaten eyes shining. "Oh, no reason, daddy. I was bored, so I was just playing some games."

Ichigo shrugged, thinking nothing further of it as she handed it back. He sat down on the bed beside her, his fingers brushing through her bangs as he smiled down on her. "Alrighty little miss, I'm heading out soon, so you know the drill."

Nelliel gave a fervent nod, holding up a small hand so she could count off the list on her fingers. "No unlocking the doors or windows. No answering the phone, not unless it's my mobile, and only if it's you. No answering the door for any reason, even if they say they're the police. And…uhh…"

"And if it sounds like someone's breaking in…" Ichigo prompted when he realised she was struggling.

"Oh! If it sounds like someone's tryin' to get in, then hide in the closet and call you right away."

Ichigo nodded, folding his daughter into a tight embrace as he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head. "Good girl, Apple. I'm only going out for dinner, so I should be gone an hour, two tops, but if you need me for anything – and I mean _anything_, then just–"

"Call you," Nelliel interrupted, rolling her eyes as she batted her overly protective parent away. "I know, Pa. We go through this _all_ the time. I'll be fine."

Ichigo gave a wan smile at the clearly smothered child. He knew he was being ludicrously sheltering of his little girl, that at this stage in her development he was most likely doing more harm than good, but fuck, who could blame him? He'd had her young, at the tender age of just seventeen, when experimenting with the likes of alcohol and his sexuality had been regrettably high on his priority list. One too many shots of tequila, and one too little functioning brain cells, and boom! Nelliel was conceived. Nine months later, her own mother had dumped her on his doorstep, telling him to do what he pleased with her before fucking off, never to be seen again. She'd been young too, but still, that was no excuse to just abandon Nelliel like a bag of trash on the street. In Ichigo's personal opinion, it was her own selfish loss, because his daughter was easily the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he simply couldn't imagine his life without her.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to once again ensure that she would be okay on her own, his thought process was suddenly lost to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Looking down at his watch, Ichigo frowned.

"Huh, he's twenty minutes early," he mused out loud as he stood up, smoothing out his shirt. "I'll go let him in and then come back to tuck you in before we go, 'kay?"

"M'kay, Itsy-Pa," Nelliel answered, a small ream of mirthful giggles accidentally slipping out.

Quirking a brow, Ichigo decided to shrug off the suspicious behaviour in favour of greeting his date. He got about halfway down the stairs when the rather incessant abuse of the doorbell turned into a frantic pounding instead. Drawing his brows together in a dark scowl for the highly unnecessary racket, Ichigo picked up the pace, jogging from the bottom of the staircase to the door just to get there a little faster.

"Christ, hold your damn horses!" he groused as he slid the deadbolt back and unhooked the chain. "You're gonna wake the damn neighbours with all that…"

Any and all vocabulary instantly died on the tip of his tongue when he finally swung the door open, not to come face-to-face with his date like he'd expected, but rather a much more familiar and, admittedly, appealing figure.

With his heart lodged somewhere within the vicinity of his throat, and his ochre eyes wide with a whole flurry of warring emotions, Ichigo swallowed thickly before uttering the one name that plagued his thoughts every waking moment of every single day.

"Gr-Grimmjow…?"

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><p>After his brief conversation with Nelliel, Grimmjow just could not get his heart to stop stuttering. The whole drive over he was a mess of unanswered questions and worst case scenarios, his tortured mind conjuring up all kinds of morbid shit just to screw with his head and turn his driving reckless. He'd honestly come expecting to have to kick the front door in and rush to the apparent rescue of Berry… So you can imagine his immense surprise when not only was the door answered, but was done so by the very man he'd come to 'save'. For the longest while they both just stood there, Grimmjow with his heart still hammering away, and Ichigo – looking as healthy as a fucking horse, he might add – staring up at him with eyes brimming in absolute bewilderment.<p>

"Gr-Grimmjow…?"

Ah, shit. There it was, that fucking beautiful honeyed voice he'd missed more than life itself, sounding out his name like it was the only word it was ever meant to form.

It took a stagnant moment for Grimmjow to compose himself, to rearrange his currently shot-up neural system so that he could function like a normal human being for two damn seconds and answer the younger man.

Fuck it was hard though.

"You look well," was the first coherent thought to tumble from his lips, and he inwardly cursed himself when ochre eyes narrowed.

"Well, thanks for coming all the way out here to give me an ego boost, now you can go."

Grimmjow quickly jammed his foot in the door before Ichigo had the chance to slam it closed in his face, hissing in pain when it struck the appendage before rebounding back. Taking the opportunity whilst he had it, he wrapped a large hand around the door frame and forced his way past the threshold.

Ichigo growled at the unwanted intrusion, folding his arms angrily over his chest as the blunette sauntered inside. "What the fuck do you want, Jeagerjaques? I'm a little pressed for time to be dealing with your shit right now."

Grimmjow curled his lip at the callous tone of the other, closing the door behind him with a simple flick of the wrist. "Stop callin' me by my surname, ya lil' brat. Ya know my name, said it not ten seconds ago, so fuckin' use it."

"I'll call you whatever I damn well please, _Sexta_," Ichigo spat back, positively bristling with anger. How dare that asshole just barge in, _uninvited_, and start barking out commands! "Now answer the fucking question – what're you doing here?"

An involuntary shiver went down Grimmjow's spine when the orange haired male let slip his rank. He knew that Ichigo was obviously using it as a cruel form of spite, but that didn't stop him from remembering the times the younger had called – nay, _screamed_ it out in ecstasy. As much as his peachy ex-lover despised his line of work, and he really fucking _loathed_ it, there was no denying that the kinky little minx got off on the danger of it all. The memory was still so vivid, so _palpable_, he could practically see it now; those gorgeous orbs burning a dark, earthy brown, glassed over in pure lust as that lithe little body arched up into his larger frame, those mile long legs snaring his waist in a vice like grip as blunt nails scored roughly down his shirtless back and–

"Grimmjow!"

Said blunette blinked, his trance shattering at the irate snap of the younger male. Ichigo on the other hand was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable with those stunning cerulean pools boring into him, the gaze so heated and intense that it felt like they were piercing straight through to the centre of his very soul. See, this is _exactly_ why he cannot afford to have the older man so close to him! He can't think straight when Grimmjow is around, and he just knew that the damn demon in disguise used it to his advantage.

Carefully schooling his expression into one of displeasure, Ichigo cleared all else from his mind. "You have precisely five seconds to tell me why you're here before I kick your ass right back out again, so I suggest you start explaining."

Grimmjow snorted, standing to his full height of 6'3" to tower over Ichigo's diminutive-by-comparison 5'10". "Still as mouthy as ever, I see."

"Grimm…" Ichigo warned, his eyes flashing a foreboding honey-gold, his growing impatience leaving him oblivious to the oversight in using the blunette's nickname. Grimmjow sure as hell noticed, though.

"Tch, _fine_. Keep your fuckin' knickers on," he rumbled, running a hand through his hair tetchily. "I'm here because Nels called me up in a panic, sayin' that you were in some kind'a trouble an' needed my help."

Ichigo was genuinely taken aback. "She what? But I'm not in any trouble…"

"Yeah, I can see that much myself, Berry," Grimmjow deadpanned, the eye roll implied in his tone.

Ichigo's heart gave a spastic flutter at the affectionate pet name so casually muttered by the other, and quickly averted his gaze off to the side. "Don't call me that." Grimmjow set his lips in a thin line, but wisely chose not to comment, leaving Ichigo open to continue. "Look, I really don't know why Apple would tell you any of that, I'm perfectly fine."

"Hn." Grimmjow scratched at his chin, casting his eyes to the top of the stairs just in time to catch a brief glimpse of sea-foam green ducking behind the wall. Scoffing, he couldn't help but smirk at the little girl's evident audacity. "Y'know, I think I may have an inklin' as to what's goin' on here."

Ichigo lifted his gaze back to the blunette, his ochre orbs inquisitive. "Oh?"

"I think we've just been 'parent trapped'," he chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Ichigo cocked a brow, realisation dawning on him slowly as he shook his head and sighed. "Why that little… Sometimes I think you had a bigger influence on her than we ever anticipated." Regretting those words the very instant they left his damnable trap, he rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Uh, for what it's worth, I'm sorry she wasted your time. It's a Friday night, I'm sure you had more, um…_important_ things to be doing."

Grimmjow shrugged indifferently. "Naw, not really. Was just catchin' up on some much needed Z's when the little tyke called. Actually, d'ya mind if I…?"

He shrugged his head towards the stairs, Ichigo catching on quickly to the suggested query. Checking his watch and noting it to be 8:22PM, he chewed pensively on the inside of his cheek. Grimmjow felt a frown knitting his brows at the action; Ichigo only ever indulged in that particular habit when he was anxious about something. Roving his gaze briefly over the younger's frame, the blunette only just now realised that the other was obviously kitted up to go out. A potent wave of jealously crashed through him at the notion, causing his nostrils to flare alongside his temper.

"Goin' somewhere tonight?" he asked in spite of himself, his inner alpha rearing its head at the prospect of another touching what he would always consider to be _his_ property.

Ichigo set his jaw, his hackles rising at the accusing tone. "Not that it's _any_ of your damn business, but yes, I am." Straightening himself up defensively, he locked gazes with the clearly fuming blunette, fighting back the gnawing sense of unease as he forced himself to finish what he'd started. "If you _must_ know, I have a…date."

And then there was silence. Cold, awkward, could hear a pin hit a pillow _silence_.

Too scared to even swallow, Ichigo could only watch as Grimmjow appeared to stop…well, _everything_. It didn't even look like he was breathing right now. He couldn't see, due to the larger male's hands concealed away in his pockets, but he imagined that they were now balled into fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to deal with his fury. And he would be correct in his assumption.

"You have a _date?_" Grimmjow ground out at long last, his voice positively dripping with venom.

Ichigo baulked at the low, rumbling baritone, but firmly held his ground. He did not push himself this far, did not put months of his life into getting over the man before him, just to give up and bottle it now.

"That's right," he started, his tone soft but resolute. "He's gonna be here any minute actually, so if you're wanting to see Nel before you leave, then please go do it now."

"Who is it?" Grimmjow asked, completely ignoring the younger. "Do I know 'im?"

"Oh God, I sincerely hope not," Ichigo muttered before he could stop himself. Grimmjow merely growled in response, taking a bold step closer so that he was now invading Ichigo's personal space.

"What's his name? Is he from around here? How'd ya meet 'im? He fucked ya yet?"

"Fuck, Grimm, stop! Just…_stop_. I'm not going to tell you a damn thing about him _or_ our relationship. It's none of your concern, so stop making yourself crazy for no reason." Taking a step forward himself, Ichigo set determined ochre on blazing cerulean. "Please, Grimm. Go and say goodbye to Nelly."

Now that his sudden burst of seething jealousy had crested and was beginning to bubble down, Grimmjow was all too aware of how close his Berry was currently standing. He could feel the younger's body heat rolling in pleasant waves between their bodies, could smell that fruity shampoo he was obviously still using wafting from his hair, could easily see the sparse amount of freckles sitting along the bride of his nose and the tops of his cheeks._ Twenty-three_. He had twenty-three in total, something Grimmjow discovered one lazy, Sunday afternoon after counting each and every one.

Almost like it was a separate entity, his left hand gingerly reached out, like he was approaching a timid rabbit about to scamper off, the pads of his fingers brushing in a feather light caress across a peachy cheek. A soft gasp escaped Ichigo's lips at the tender touch, a warm sensation torrenting down his spine as his eyelids fought to flutter shut. Christ, how he missed this man; his citrusy musk, that thickly corded body and rumbling voice, those wildly expressive pools of glittering aquamarine that had captured his heart from the very first glance. But most of all, he missed just having the blunette around, missed the security and love and devotion he poured so effortlessly into the heart of both himself and his young daughter.

Sensing that they were headed down a very precarious road that both would end up regretting, Ichigo tilted his head away from those searching digits – only to have his left cheek captured in Grimmjow's free hand.

With his face now cupped and pinned in place, and not possessing the mental strength to fight against the wonderful sensation of just being held again, he slowly raised his own hands, grasping the blunette's large wrists in a weak and desperate hold. He could feel tears of utter helplessness prickling hotly in the corners of his eyes as the barriers he'd built up to protect himself came crashing down around his ears. Damn it all to hell, why was he so _weak?_

"Grimm, _please_…don't do this…"

Grimmjow could hear the distress in the younger's straining voice, knew that he was feeling vulnerable and exposed right now, but it was much too late. He was too far gone to stop himself now, ensnared so completely by the shimmering orbs and sunshiny tresses of the man he'd fallen in love with all those years ago.

Ghosting his lips over the petal soft ones of his younger lover, Grimmjow damn near groaned in delight when he caught a subtle hint of that sweet, addictive saccharine flavour that was purely Ichigo. The downright electrifying spark that one tiny, innocent little brush elicited had Grimmjow instantly craving so much more, and, having not encountered any resistance from the smaller male other than a slight increase in pressure around his wrists, the blunette decided that it was now, or never.

Slipping his right arm down to settle around a narrow waist, he pulled the orange haired male flush against his body, his blood singing in pleasure when slender fingers fell from his wrists to fist in his thermal instead. Sinking his own strong fingers into deceptively silky spikes, he used the leverage to angle Ichigo's head back, giving him maximum access to those pink, parted lips he knew he would never tire of bruising with his own. Dipping his head, Grimmjow lightly brushed his nose against the other's before finally, _finally_, pressing their eager mouths together in a firm, soul-searing kiss…

…and then the doorbell rang.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ciao, Bellas~ Aa, gosh, it's so good ta be back ^^ *happy purr***

**As some'a yah already know, I took an unscheduled 'vacation' when mah netbook up and died on me. Luckily, I gots me a new one fer mah birthday, whoop-whoop~! But _un_fortunately, am still workin' on recovering all of my files from mah old netbook - gonna have ta take my old hard drive out, hook it up to tha PC, and copy them all onto an external hard drive from there... So, yeah. Fun times ahead fer me (:**

**Yosh, so until I get all tha' jazz sorted, am afraid mah other fics will have ta wait, hence this lil' story. Jus' an idea that has been sittin' in the back of mah mind since the scenario popped up in an episode of Supernatural.. Ooo I love tha' show~ *flicks tail* This _was_ supposed ta be a OneShot, and then I got crazy out'a control with the plot and details etc and well, now it's gonna be a TwoShot. Sorry yah'll, but fer once yer actually gonna have ta wait fer the delicious, lemony goodness ^^' Hn, this actually is my very first story tha' doesn't have any sex contained in the first chapter. Accomplishment? ... I would have ta say -_ hells no!_ I'm the authoress, an' even I feel cheated *kittenish growly***

**N'wawh well, tha smut shall come soon mah sweets, jus' hang in there (:**

**Enjoy if yah like, and ciao fer now**

**Toringtino ~x~**


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Grimm-kitten, nor Ichi-Berry, not even...! Aa, nearly went and spoiled it there~ Naughty.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>.:The Parent Trap:.<strong>_

_**Part Two**_

The piercing drill of the doorbell sounding shot through Ichigo like a wayward bullet, causing his breath to catch in his throat and his pulse to skip a beat. The hazy, alluring trance Grimmjow had so easily drowned him in suddenly shattered, his mind snapping back into focus with such clarity it made him dizzy. Fuck, what had he been about to do? Was his resolve honestly that frail that he was about to just lay back and give in to the blunette without so much as even a fight?

Damn, he really was pathetic.

Wrenching himself away from Grimmjow's fierce embrace and into a more tolerable proximity, he glared up at the older man. "You need to go. Right now."

Grimmjow growled, snatching up the younger's wrist to haul him forward again. Shit, just a few seconds more and Ichigo would have been his! That kiss, although chockfull of familiar warmth and a taste he couldn't ever hope to forget, was too damn brief. He'd been so tantalisingly close, after eleven gruelling months of pining for the one he'd lost, of worrying that he would someday forget what those rose petal lips felt like sliding against his own, he finally had his Berry back in arms – and some stupid fucker just had to go and blow it all to shit, had to ruin what would have surely been the single most gratifying experience of his life. If he wasn't otherwise preoccupied with reclaiming what was rightfully his own, he would have long since stormed out and ripped their unwelcome guest's head clean off their shoulders.

"We have unfinished business here, Berry. Go tell your _'date'_ to take a fuckin' hike."

"Like hell I will!" Ichigo retorted icily, snatching his wrist back. "We have nothing to discuss here, Grimmjow. And stop calling me 'Berry', dammit!"

Cerulean and ochre snapped to the door when the bell went off again, twice this time as the man on the other side obviously became impatient of waiting. Looking anxiously to the blunette, Ichigo started ushering him towards the kitchen, Grimmjow resisting every step of the way and Ichigo colourfully cursing him out for it.

"Will ya quit fuckin' shovin' me?" Grimmjow groused, really digging his feet in to stop them dead in their tracks. "I've got legs, I can fuckin' walk ya know!"

"Then hurry up and leave!" Ichigo sniped, giving one last hearty shove to the older man's back. "Sneak out the back – that way I don't have to worry about explaining anything. Or you scaring him off," he mumbled as an afterthought.

Scoffing derisively, Grimmjow folded his arms across his chest and turned to face the younger, making it quite evident that he had absolute no intentions of leaving. "I'm not goin' anywhere 'til I see Nels."

A loud wrapping at the door this time had Ichigo smacking his forehead in frustration. Fuck his life sideways – why did Grimmjow have to make every single thing so damn difficult?

"Ya better answer the door there, Ichigo, before your date busts it down," Grimmjow sneered, his voice laced with dark tones as his eyes narrowed. "Unless ya want me to get it for ya, hn?"

Grinning cruelly, Grimmjow stepped past the agitated redhead, heading straight for the front door. It didn't take long for Ichigo to retaliate however, bounding forward to block Grimmjow's path, arms held out at his sides as if that would be enough to hinder the blunette from his goal.

"Don't you dare," he growled menacingly, his ochre eyes flashing a threatening shade of gold. "If you wanna see Nel before you leave, then _fine_. But be quick. Kaien can wait in the living room until you're gone."

A mighty wave of rabid resentment cascaded over Grimmjow then, his nostrils flaring as he glowered at the solid wooden frame of the front door. "Kaien, ey? So that's his name…"

Fighting back the borderline innate impulse to try and soothe the visibly upset blunette, Ichigo composed himself enough to nod pointedly toward the staircase. "Please don't fight me on this, Grimm. Just go."

With a guttural snarl worthy of the powerful jungle cat Ichigo had always compared him to, Grimmjow merely _tch_ed, rolling his shoulders as he started ascending the stairs. Ichigo watched him go, his heart torn between the want to console his ex-lover, and the urge to just throw him out on his ass before he messed up everything he'd worked so diligently to achieve.

He kept his gaze firmly fixated on Grimmjow until he turned the corner at the crest of the stairs, breathing out a weary sigh when he disappeared from view. As he turned to the door, he couldn't help but think how his life would be if things had turned out a little differently, how it would be if he and Grimmjow had been able to work through the vast ridge of discrepancies in their relationship.

Hn. If only life were that simple…

* * *

><p>Not bothering to knock, Grimmjow simply strolled straight into Nelliel's room, snorting when he found her huddled up under her duvet as she feigned sleep. Sitting himself down on the edge of the single bed, he gave her shoulder a gentle shake.<p>

"C'mon, kid, I ain't _that_ stupid. I know you're not asleep."

Rolling his eyes when he received a forged snore in response, his gaze then fell to the little stuffed lion nestled up by the girl's pillow. Grinning, he reached out and picked it up, fond memories of their day out to last years annual carnival floating to the forefront of his mind. God, she'd been so damn happy when he won it for her, her wheaten eyes lighting up like the fucking fourth of July.

A feral smirk touched his lips as he tossed the toy back and forth between his hands. "Well, I guess if Nels really _is_ asleep, she won't mind if borrow her favourite toy…" Glancing at the mess of sea-foam green hair he could see peeking out above the covers, he bit back a mirthful chuckle when he witnessed the child tense. "Hn, what to do with it, though… Oh, I know! I'll use it to wash the car, or maybe to prop the door open when it's too hot. That big ol' squishy head will make an excellent doorstop…"

"Noooo! You can't take Kon away!"

Grimmjow could only laugh when Nelliel launched herself from under the duvet, animatedly snatching the lion plushie from his hands and crushing it to her chest as she glared at him, her lips curling down in an all too adorable pout.

"Relax, brat," Grimmjow said, playfully ruffling her hair. "I ain't gonna take your stupid doll. I just wanted to talk to ya."

Nelliel swallowed, knowing exactly where this particular conversation was headed. "I'm sorry I lied, Grimm-Pa!" she started, figuring the sooner she started begging forgiveness, the better. "But I really was scared when I called! Daddy was gettin' ready for his date, and I knew I had to do something!"

Grimmjow frowned, brushing a hand through his unruly locks. "So ya knew Ichigo was goin' on a date tonight, huh?" Nelliel nodded sheepishly, to which Grimmjow sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Dammit, Nelly. D'ya have any idea just how worried I was? I thought he was in trouble, _in pain_. That was a seriously dumb stunt ya pulled, ya troublesome pest."

"I know," Nelliel whimpered, looking up at the angry blunette through thick lashes. "But ya don't understand, Itsy-Pa really _is_ in trouble! I heard him when he was getting ready earlier, he was sayin' stuff like 'I can do this', and 'I can take our relationship to the next level, it's no big deal'." Nelliel watched as Grimmjow sucked in a sharp breath, his brow furrowing as his hands balled into fists on his knees. "See? I told you it was an emergency!"

_Emergency?_ he thought bitterly. _Try goddamn fuckin' disaster!_

"Okay, first things first – how in the hell do you know what 'the next level' means?"

Nelliel gave a haughty scoff. "Duuuuh~ I watch lots'a TV, Grimmy, 'course I know what it means!"

Grimmjow grimaced. "Yeah, am _definitely_ tellin' Berry to make you go outside more – or get parental locks put on the box, at least." Nelliel whined, but knew it was pointless to argue with the more pig-headed of her two parents. She couldn't manipulate him the same way in which she could her father, something Grimmjow used to his advantage, and often. "Secondly, I know you're upset that your dad's datin' again – fuck knows I didn't take it too well – but it ain't our place to meddle."

"But, Grimm-Pa–"

"No. No 'buts', Apple," Grimmjow interrupted, his voice heavy with parental censure. "Ya put me in a really awkward position tonight. D'ya think it's easy for me to see Ichigo with someone else? There's nothin' I want more than to come back home, but we're both just gonna have to live with the fact that it isn't ever goin' to happen. I'm sorry, Nels. Sorry that I can't be here for ya, that I can't stop Ichigo from movin' on without me." Shrugging rather helplessly, he gathered the small girl into his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. "There's simply nothin' I can do."

Nelliel tucked her head underneath Grimmjow's chin, her tiny hands balling up in his thermal as hot tears of failure gathered in her eyes, making her vision swim. "B-But you belong _here_," she stuttered, burying her face into the blunette's solid chest. "You and Itsy-Pa belong _together_…"

Hugging the sobbing child even closer, Grimmjow pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "Yeah, I thought so to."

"I love you, Grimm. Ya'll always be my daddy."

"Thanks, Nels," Grimmjow smiled, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Y'know, for a spoiled brat, you're not so bad…" Chuckling when the small girl gave a feeble punch to his pectoral, he smoothed a hand through her hair in apology, rocking her gently back and forth to calm her mournful whimpering. "I love ya too, Nel, an' that won't ever change."

Drawing back to look up at the older man, Nelliel sniffled, using her arm to wipe away her tears. "Ya promise?"

Grimmjow's answer was swift and absolute; "On my heart an' soul."

* * *

><p>Ichigo was pacing back and forth at the bottom of the stairs when Grimmjow eventually reappeared, wringing his hands in a nervous fashion as he watched him casually make his way down to him. He knew that as soon as he left he would finally be able to relax, that he could take a deep, cleansing breath and pretend like he'd never been there to begin with.<p>

Grimmjow was about halfway down when he jammed a thumb over his shoulder. "Brat's askin' for ya."

Flicking his gaze from the stairs to the living room, and then back again, Ichigo tracked a hand through his luminous spikes. "I presume it would be asking too much for you to leave without taking a detour?" Grimmjow let a malicious smirk speak volumes as to his answer, and Ichigo scowled, meeting him at the bottom step to poke forebodingly at his chest. "_Behave_, Grimmjow, or I swear to God I'll castrate you with my bare hands…"

"Ooh, kinky," Grimmjow purred, biting back a bark of laughter when Ichigo sputtered and blushed a furious crimson before storming off upstairs.

He waited until he heard the soft murmuring of voices before he ventured toward the living room. Gripping the door handle, he took a moment to compose his wildly fluctuating emotions, forging a badly disguised façade of neutral before pushing it open and stepping inside. His eyes immediately went to the head of spiky, raven black hair, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly when a fairly youthful face turned expectantly toward him, pools of aqua green casting over him in confusion.

When the man stood, Grimmjow was shocked to find he was almost as tall as himself, a centimetre or two separating them in both height and build. Grimmjow inwardly cursed – the guy was actually pretty decent looking, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a navy shirt, his hair messy in appearance but having obviously been styled that way. Dammit, why couldn't he have been unattractive? Would have made hating the son-of-a-bitch a whole lot fucking easier.

"Uh, Grimmjow, right?" the man implored, his voice a pleasant tenor as he offered his hand out to him.

Grimmjow clasped the proffered appendage, gripping harder than was absolutely necessary. Don't start. He's facing off with another evident Alpha, his authority and strength have to be conveyed right from the get-go.

"That's right," Grimmjow replied, trying his best to keep the growling edge from his tone as the other male returned his fierce handshake ounce-for-ounce. "An' you're Kevin, yeah?"

A petty smile devoid of any humour whatsoever tugged at the corners of the man's mouth. "It's Kaien, actually. But close."

Realising that their physical contact had gone on for much too long to be considered in any way amicable, both men let go simultaneously, wordlessly declaring their little stand-off as a draw. Kaien pushed his hands deep into his pockets, taking a stance of casual indifference and aloofness, whilst Grimmjow fluidly crossed his arms, biceps bulging and chest puffing out in a clear sign of aggravation, of insecurity at having his 'turf' trodden on by another.

Kaien, sensing the man's unease, gestured to the couch. "Why don't we sit down, chat a bit whilst Ichi finishes up?"

Grimmjow immediately raised his hackles at the oh so frivolous use of his Berry's nickname, his eyes sparking with contemptuous venom. "Don't you dare call him that," he seethed, teeth bared in warning. "What gives ya the fuckin' right to call him that, huh? Ya think just because ya were lucky enough to get a second glance that you can go gettin' all chummy with him? Che. Ya gotta _earn_ that shit, asshole."

Kaien blinked, taken aback by the sudden and highly unjust onslaught. "Look, I don't know what Ichigo has told you, but it's not like this is our first date. We've been seeing each other for two, goin' on three weeks now."

Grimmjow could only frown. From what Nelliel had told him, he'd already gathered that Ichigo and this man had seen each other before – but _three weeks?_ Shit. That was something else entirely. That was real relationship material right fucking there.

And the mere thought made him sick to his fucking stomach.

"I couldn't give a rat's ass whether ya've been seein' him one week or a fuckin' hundred, it don't change a goddamn thing," Grimmjow snarled, taking an ominous step forward. "Listen here, ya punk-ass–"

"No, _you_ listen, _Grimmjow_," Kaien started, cutting Grimmjow short as he took an equal step toward him. "Ichigo hasn't told me much about you, and anything he _has_ told me I practically had to drag kicking and screaming out'a him, but I know enough."

"You don't know jack shit about me," Grimmjow spat, his fingers itching to take a swipe at that handsomely smug face.

"Oh no?" Kaien retorted, not in the least bit phased by the palpable fury rolling off of the blunette. "I know that you had your chance, and that you blew it. I know that the scars you left on that boy made him a physical wreck. It took weeks of asking, damn near months of wooing and rejection, before he finally opened up enough to let me in. You broke him, Grimmjow, almost beyond repair, but I never abandoned him. I knew that he was hurting, that he wanted to just curl up and blot out the rest of the world for the rest of his days – but I stuck by him, helped him to see that there are others out there willing and able to care for him, if he'd only _let_ them."

Sighing, the raven haired male took a tentative step back, taking their confrontation down a notch and giving the blunette room to vent. "He loved you, and probably still does, but the question here is; do _you_ love him enough to do what's right by him? Can you be man enough to just let him go so that he can live his life and have a chance at being happy again?"

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted Grimmjow's thought process before he could reply, accompanied shortly thereafter by Ichigo suddenly entering the room, who scrutinised the situation with wary eyes. "Um…is everything okay in here?"

Kaien looked keenly to Grimmjow, letting the blue haired male take the reins on that particular question, blindly hoping that his words had gotten through and that he would make the right decision.

The silence truly was deafening, Ichigo glancing worriedly between the two older male's as they stared at one another, almost as if daring the other to make the first move. His heart thumped hard against his ribs when the awful, stagnant atmosphere was finally breeched by a low baritone.

"Everything's fine, Ber–uh, Ichigo," Grimmjow said at long last, his jaw still clenched and his body coiled uncomfortably. "In fact, me an' Kevin here–"

"Kaien," the raven head mordantly interjected.

"Tch, whatever," Grimmjow retorted, his tone uncaring. "We've been talkin' an'…well, I decided that am gonna sit in with Nels tonight, give you two the chance to have a proper night out."

Kaien's face broke out in a genuine smile of appreciation, whereas Ichigo just looked utterly dumbfounded. "Wh-What? Grimmjow, you don't have to do that…"

Swallowing back the bile rising in his throat, Grimmjow forced himself to continue. "S'okay, I want to do it. This way I get to spend some time with the demon sprog, an' you can relax knowin' she's in safe hands. Stay out as long as ya like, I'll wait for ya."

Kaien, all too eager to accept the greatly unexpected chivalry, clapped the blunette square on the shoulder. Choosing to ignore the animalistic growl reverberating deep within the man's throat at the action, he gave him a wide, grateful grin, before making his way over to the bewildered redhead.

Grimmjow grit his teeth when the raven haired male draped a long arm across narrow shoulders, hugging Ichigo close to his side as he nodded toward the front door. "Well, now that that's all settled, what say we get goin'? We have reservations to make in fifteen minutes."

"Y-Yeah, okay." Casting another troubled glance at the blunette as he was led away, Ichigo forced a smile. "Thank you, Grimm. Uh, you have my number if anything comes up, and make sure Apple is in bed by nine-thirty…there's leftovers in the fridge if either of you get hungry, oh and don't give Nel any soda or she'll be up all night, and–"

"Christ, shut the fuck up an' get out already, Ichigo!" Grimmjow snapped, stopping the younger male mid-rant. "Damn, ya'd think I never looked after the fuckin' kid before…"

"Yeah, I think he's got it covered," Kaien chimed in, handing Ichigo his jacket from the rack by the door. "C'mon, Ichi. We're gonna be late."

Nodding dumbly, Ichigo donned his jacket, letting Kaien usher him out the door. "We shouldn't be too long."

Grimmjow inclined his head, not trusting himself to say a damn word to the retreating couple. He could only watch with a heavy heart as Ichigo stumbled over the threshold, as Kaien gave a curt wave, and then finally as the door clicked closed behind them.

Really, he should be giving himself a giant pat on the back for letting his Berry go like he did, for not losing his cool and tearing the competition limb from fucking limb, like he so desperately wanted to do. He'd actually done some good for once, was giving Ichigo a real fighting chance with someone who, he supposed, wasn't all _that_ bad…

…So then why did it feel like he was making the biggest mistake of his entire life? Why did he feel so completely shattered and fucking wretched?

Shaking all thought from his head, he swiftly about turned and made his way upstairs, to the little girl he would always call his own and to a love he knew would never leave him for another.

* * *

><p>It was 10:44PM by the time Ichigo set foot back into his home. With a heavy sigh he closed the door behind him, leaning his back against the wooden surface as he let his eyes slip closed. Against his better judgement, and indeed his sanity, he'd broken things off with Kaien. After the sudden reappearance of Grimmjow, he found he just couldn't concentrate on anything else. That was the problem with domineering blunette, once he made his existence known within your life there was no getting rid of him again. He was like a whirlwind of destruction, churning up everything you thought you ever knew and turning your whole world on its head so that you forgot which way was up. As such, dinner had been a shambles. He hadn't been able to give Kaien the time of day, the attention and devotion he deserved. Who knows, maybe if Grimmjow hadn't quite literally barged his way back into his life and home, then maybe things could have worked out between them. Maybe they would have taken their relationship to the next level and, a few months down the line, moved in together, started a whole new life filled with new memories and faces and experiences…<p>

Ichigo could only shake his head. Guess he never would find out now, and he certainly wasn't about to waste his energy on fruitless 'what if's'.

Rubbing a hand wearily over his face, he shrugged out of his coat, hanging it up by the door before heading toward the living room where he could hear the low hum of chatter indicative of the television being on. Upon entering, his eyes were first drawn to the flat screen in the corner, an old black and white Western playing with the volume down low. A soft snore then had him redirecting his focus to the three-man brown leather couch to his right, a warm smile curling his lips upwards at the sight that greeted him. Grimmjow and Nelliel were both out for the count, his little Apple curled up on the blunette's chest, the older male sprawled out on his back and covering the entire length of the seat with his long body. Nelliel was suckling on her thumb, signalling that she was well and truly out cold, whereas Grimmjow had his right arm thrown over his eyes and his left wrapped protectively around the small girl's body, preventing her from rolling off of him and onto the polished wooden floor.

Quietly making his way over to the slumbering pair, Ichigo hunched down beside the couch. Reaching out, he gently trailed his fingers through his daughter's long hair, his smile widening a notch when the action elicited a soft, purr-like sound from the sleeping child. Letting her be in case he accidentally disturbed her, he then turned his attention to the dozing blunette.

For the longest moment he could only stare, his ochre eyes drinking in every hard line and rugged detail not otherwise concealed by the man's thickly muscled arm. A teasing amount of sun kissed chest was on display thanks to the loose collared thermal, the buttoned 'V' undone so that about an inch below collarbone was visible. Ichigo could still remember, and quite vividly at that, just how much the older male loved him nibbling and sucking on his collarbone, how his strong fingers would tangle themselves in his hair and he'd hiss and groan in encouragement.

Swallowing thickly, he forced his gaze further north, his suddenly ravenous orbs devouring the sight of a solid, corded neck he'd once loved to nip and mark, a protruding Adam's apple he used to flatten his tongue against on the rare occasion the blunette exposed his throat, up to a square jaw darkened with at least two days worth of stubble, and then finally, because the rest was covered from view, his eyes settled on the man's head full of thick, electric teal locks. Oh how he had loved to track his fingers through those unruly spikes, to give a harsh tug on the smooth as silk strands just because he knew it drove Grimmjow wild, or, when they were feeling a little more lazy and lethargic, he would rub the pads of his fingers over his scalp and listen to the appreciative rumble he got in response, letting it wash over him and soothe his very soul.

The indescribable urge to just reach out and trail his hand through those beautiful strands hit Ichigo hard, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he hesitantly raised his right hand. Grimmjow stirred, mumbling something incoherent and shifting his weight slightly, causing Ichigo's pulse to race and his hand to pause in mid-action. When the slumbering man simply settled back again, Ichigo let a sigh of relief pass silently through his lips and, after a moment to gather up his scattered courage, resumed his mission. It felt so surreal, getting so worked up and jittery about something he used to do without even _thinking_ about it first. But then, things were different now. Grimmjow wasn't his lover anymore, wasn't his to touch affectionately or reach out to when he felt so incredibly alone in the middle of the night. In reality, he had no right to touch the man whatsoever, not after it was him who broke it off, who denied not only himself, but also the violently reluctant blunette, the chance to ever feel the comforting presence of the other. _He_ was the one who condemned them to a life without one another – and right now, he _hated_ himself for it.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose to calm his nerves and steady his trembling fingers, he quietly laid his hand on the bright tresses near the man's temple. With a soft exhale, he tenderly ran his hand back, letting his fingers sink into the blue strands. A small smile quirked his lips. They were as soft as he ever remembered, even through the wax that was beginning to harden near the ends.

Bringing his hand back to repeat the process, a startled yelp was torn from his gut when the blunette's right hand, the one that had been resting over his eyes, suddenly shot out to seize his wrist. With blood roaring in his ears at the embarrassment of being caught, Ichigo could only stare, gobsmacked, when Grimmjow's fingers sought out and intertwined with his own before tilting his head slightly to press a tender kiss to his wrist.

A breathy gasp rushed from Ichigo's lungs before he could stop it, and, as if he'd just been burned, he abruptly tore his hand away. Cradling his wrist in his hand, he found himself gazing into pools of unfathomable, crystallised blue, his heart fluttering sporadically against his ribs as the blunette grinned, showing off a sliver of those sharp, pearly white teeth.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled, averting his eyes as heat rushed into his cheeks. He wasn't even sure what he was apologising for, only that it felt appropriate to do so.

Grimmjow snorted, smirking for all his worth when he caught sight of that adorable blush. "No need to apologise, Ichigo. I know am irresistible."

Ichigo sighed as, just like that, the moment of innocent serenity was obliterated. "Don't forget narcissistic," he muttered as he rose to his feet.

Groaning, Grimmjow decided to ignore the jibe, scrubbing a hand tiredly down his face instead. "Time is it?"

"About quarter to eleven," Ichigo answered.

Grimmjow frowned at that. "That all? S'kinda early to be home, isn't it?"

Shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, Ichigo tried his best to look nonchalant. "I, uh, broke things off with Kaien…"

"Eh? The fuck did'ja do that for?"

"Things just weren't going to work out between us, and I couldn't…couldn't uhh…never mind! It's complicated, alright?" Needing a change of topic, and fast, Ichigo glanced at his still sleeping daughter, giving the rousing older male a pointed look. "I thought I asked you to make sure she was in bed by nine-thirty?"

Rubbing his fingers over his bleary eyes, Grimmjow allowed the previous subject to drop, at least for the time being. "Yeah, well, I was gonna throw her upstairs when ya told me, but then she started harpin' on and on about some cowboy film she wanted to watch. I told her no, that you'd given a specific bed time, an' then she went an' brought the big guns out, gave me _'The Look'_." Carefully shifting himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, he smiled down adoringly at the mess of green hair splayed out across his torso. "What can'a say? I fell hook, line an' fuckin' sinker." Flicking his gaze to Ichigo, he smirked. "Heh. D'ya have any idea just how much she looks like you when she does that stupid lil' pout? S'kinda scary."

"I do not _pout_," Ichigo grumbled, rolling his eyes at Grimmjow's answering scoff as he stooped down, reaching out for the slumbering child. "If she's grumpy in the morning, I'm blaming you."

"'Course y'are," Grimmjow drawled, batting Ichigo's arms away as he sat up and curled the girl into his own. "Back it up, Ichi. I got 'er."

Letting the nickname slide for now, Ichigo did as he was told, giving Grimmjow room enough to stand up. Nelliel scrunched her nose up in protest as she was carefully transferred from midsection to shoulder, her little arms instinctively winding around Grimmjow's neck as her head nuzzled in close to his neck. Other than that, she didn't stir. Grimmjow couldn't help but grin, his left arm curled under her backside for support as his right hand pressed between her shoulder blades, keeping her close.

Ichigo followed quietly behind as Grimmjow lead the way up to Nelliel's room, watching from the doorframe as the older male gently laid her down and tucked her in, kissing her forehead lightly before straightening himself back up. Ichigo then took his turn, pressing a soft kiss in the young girl's hair and whispering good night before he joined Grimmjow at the door.

For a pregnant moment they both just stood there, watching over Nelliel as she lost herself in the world of dreams. It wasn't until he felt an arm drape over his shoulders that Ichigo snapped back to reality, flicking his gaze to the blunette who was apparently still lost in thought, the contact he'd initiated obviously a subconscious act.

When Ichigo cleared his throat and awkwardly twisted himself out of the hold, Grimmjow suddenly realised what he'd done. Raising his hands in what he hoped to be a placating manner, he gave his wary former lover some room. "Sorry. Really. Just…force of habit, I guess."

Ichigo gave a nod, taking the apology as genuine. "Y-Yeah, of course. Uh, why don't we move downstairs? We might wake Nels standing around here."

Being closest, Grimmjow gently closed Nelliel's door before sweeping an arm out, silently gesturing for Ichigo to take the lead. Nodding, Ichigo did as instructed, taking the stairs at a much slower rate than he normally would. He was absolutely wracked with indecision. Should he invite Grimmjow to have a drink with him, as a small gesture of gratitude? Or should he ask him to leave right now, preferably _before_ he realised just how much he missed him…just how much he _needed_ him?

Ichigo jolted back into focus when two large hands slid over his hips, only now realising that they'd reached the bottom of the stairs and that he'd obviously zoned out. An unbearable heat consumed him as Grimmjow's larger frame melded into his back, his breath hitching as those strong hands boldly glided across his stomach and pulled him flush against the older male. Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he bit down hard when he felt Grimmjow nuzzle his hair, a strangled sound of surprise lodging in his throat when rough lips pressed a searing kiss to the nape of his neck. A bolt of white hot electricity coursed down the length of his spine from the small token of affection, goosebumps erupting over his arms as he fought not to give in and lean back, to tilt his head and wordlessly ask for more.

Forcing himself to snap out of it before he completely lost it, Ichigo reeled forward, successfully tearing himself out of the blunette's grasp. Spinning round to face him, Ichigo glared. "Stop touching me, Grimmjow," he growled, his hands flexing in and out of fists. "I really don't appreciate you trying to take advantage in my own home. In fact, I think you should just go."

Grimmjow huffed out an aggravated sigh. "Fine, fine. Am sorry, okay?" he began, not sounding in the least bit repentant. "But we really ought'a talk about this, about _us_, don't'cha think?"

"There is _no _'us', Grimm," Ichigo groaned, having been through this conversation, oh, about a _thousand_ times over by now. "How many times do I have to tell you that before you'll listen, huh?"

Also feeling the strain of a conversation he's had more times than he could count, Grimmjow growled out his frustration, stepping toward the bristling younger. "An' how many times do I have to tell ya that we _belong_ together before ya get it through that thick skull a'yours?" Closing right in on the smaller male, he glared down on him. "Tell me, _Ichigo_, why'd ya bail out on your date, eh? Ya knew I was takin' care'a things here, that you could stay out as long as ya wanted…so _why?_ Why break things off when ya finally had the chance to make a go of it? Why not let 'im wine an' dine ya, make ya feel all loved an' special, before takin' ya back to his for a good ol' fashioned throw down, huh? That's what you were lookin' forward to, was it not?" Having now backed the flustered redhead up against the front door, the snarling blunette gripped his shoulders in a harsh grasp. "Why not seal the deal, make it official? Why not move the fuck on when a golden opportunity was starin' ya right in the face? Tell me why, Ichigo!"

"_Because he's not you!_" Ichigo barked without thinking, his head hanging in the shame of defeat as soon as the words left his mouth. When he spoke again, his voice was broken, and barely above a whisper. "…I-I couldn't do it because…because he's not you…"

Grimmjow could only blink, scarcely daring to believe his ears as Ichigo's words rang through his mind like a mantra. Shocked through to his very core, he put up no resistance when the younger male shoved away from him, angrily storming off towards the kitchen.

_Because he's not you…_

Did that mean that Ichigo had been thinking about him, and for all this time? That he missed him? Ached for him? Still cared about him?

Needing answers – and fucking yesterday – Grimmjow quickly set off after him, thundering into the kitchen to find the clearly upset redhead sucking back a beer and scowling like it was going out of fashion. Cocking a brow, he wisely chose to keep his distance, lest the fiery younger rip off one of his limbs, and endeavoured to lighten the dark, bone crushing aura surrounding them.

"Beer?" he questioned, leaning his back against the granite-top island in the middle of the room, directly opposite Ichigo who was leaning against the sink. "An' here I thought ya hated the stuff. 'I'd rather drink my own piss', is what I believe ya told me."

Etching his scowl a little deeper in response, Ichigo waited until he'd downed at least half the bottle before taking a breather to answer back. "Yeah, well…people change, Grimmjow. Some because they _want_ to, and others because they _have_ to."

"Don't start with all that high an' mighty bullshit, ya snot nosed lil' brat, am in no mood for it."

"I couldn't give a flying fuck what you're in the mood for, Grimm!" Ichigo snarled, slamming the bottle down on the countertop beside him. "You can't just waltz back in here, back into _my life_, and start taking over like nothing ever happened! I mean, shit! I was finally getting myself back on track, getting back into the real world…and then, out of fucking _nowhere_, you show up on my doorstep and turn everything on its head again!"

Grimmjow curled his lip, not particularly enjoying being so thoroughly chewed out when none of this was his fault. "Ichigo…"

"I've tried so hard…_so fucking hard_, just to forget about it all – to forget about _you…_ But I can't do it. I just…_can't_." Ichigo cast his eyes to the floor, unable to bear looking into those beautiful aquamarine pools as he poured his heart out, as he bared his soul to the one and only man he could ever be this vulnerable with. "It took me months to start going out again, let alone to even think about dating. Do you have any idea just how difficult it is to put yourself out there? Especially after you thought you had everything you'd ever need?"

Grimmjow didn't know what to say to that, and hence kept his mouth shut. Sure he knew just how miserable his existence had become without his fiery ex to brighten it up, never quite realised until it was too late just how dependent he was on the younger male. He lamented the obvious things, such as Ichigo's athletically sculpted body, those lean arms and long legs that were made for hugging around him, that peachy skin that always smelt so sweet and was as smooth to the touch as polished marble. But it was so much more than that. He missed the little things too; how Ichigo would grumble and complain, pleading for "just five more minutes" when it was time to get up in the mornings, how he would scrunch his nose up in distaste any time Grimmjow indulged in a smoke, scolding that it was detrimental to his own health when really Grimmjow knew that he was just concerned for him, how he would mutter and roll his eyes any time Grimmjow wanted to watch a match, but would immediately brighten when one of his favourite soaps – which to this day he _still_ denies he's addicted to – came on. Ichigo was bold, outspoken, loyal, determined, stubborn, passionate…who _wouldn't_ miss him?

"I started comparing everyone to you," Ichigo admitted quietly when the unbearable silence became too stifling. He wished he could stop talking, stop from digging himself a bigger grave than he'd accomplished with his first outburst, but he just couldn't help himself now that he'd started. "At first I didn't even realise I was doing it, thought I was just being a bit picky after being out of the whole dating scene for so long. But then I realised that I was rejecting people because they weren't enough like you. I went to the cinema with one guy, watched a comedy, and I couldn't understand why he wasn't laughing at certain parts – and that's when I realised that those were the parts I knew you would find funny. And then when he actually did laugh, I couldn't help but notice that it was too high and nasally, not deep and rumbling like yours. Another guy took me bowling, told me he went all the time, and yet _somehow_ managed three gutter balls and not a single strike. The asshole _let_ me win, treated me like a fucking girl and threw the game! You never did that to me. Never bullshitted or sugarcoated just to spare my feelings. And then tonight, with Kaien, he took me out to an Italian restaurant, and ended up ordering some pasta dish with meatballs – can you believe I actually got _offended_ when he didn't offer me the last one?"

Grimmjow, in spite of the situation, found himself smiling. "I always gave ya mine."

"Yeah, I know. I guess that's when it really hit home, being out with a really great guy, one who really cared for me, and still finding the differences too vast and crippling to bear." Sighing heavily through his nose, Ichigo picked up his abandoned drink before padding past the heavily reflecting blunette. Pausing at the door, he glanced over his shoulder at the older male. "Help yourself to a drink if you want. I need to go sit down."

Grimmjow listened to the door clicking shut behind the redhead, his eyes glued firmly to the space he'd been occupying mere moments ago. What the fuck was going on here? Christ, he'd only come in the first place because he thought that his peachy lover was in some kind of trouble, and now he suddenly found himself in the middle of an epic soul-search. Was he supposed to read anything into what Ichigo had just disclosed? If yes, then how much exactly? It was obvious now that the younger male wasn't coping without him, not like how Grimmjow had believed he was at any rate. He had just as good as admitted that there was no one out there as suitable for him as what he was, right? But then again, it wasn't as if Ichigo wasn't at least trying to move on, which was a lot more than could be said for himself. Even the thought of someone else touching him the way Ichigo used to made him physically retch, and it only went double for him even contemplating to bring another pleasure. The only one he ever wanted calling his name out like it was the only word they possessed as he rocked them to a state of euphoric bliss was his Berry – and that wasn't ever going to change.

Grabbing himself a beer as suggested, he popped the cap with his teeth and joined his one and only in the sitting room. He may not ever get to experience the wonder that is Ichigo Kurosaki again, but he'd make the most of his company whilst he could, drink in every miniscule detail of his face, drown himself in the sweet musk that was his scent until he felt inebriated, and sear every hitch and lilt of his honeyed voice into his memory, never to be forgotten.

Lamented, and even regretted, but never, ever forgotten.

* * *

><p>"Am not shittin' ya, I swear."<p>

Ichigo remained unconvinced. "Oh, come on… There's just no way it's possible, let alone true! Not _once_, in over eleven months?"

Grimmjow snorted, stretching his legs out in front of him as he relaxed back further into the couch. "Can we _please_ just drop this? I really don't need to be reminded of how pathetically miserable my sex life has been…"

Two hours and several beers later, and the two males found themselves falling into a rather comfortable routine. Both were sat on the two-man fabric couch, forcing them to sit a little closer to one another than they would have been subjected to had they opted for the adjacent leather sofa. At first it was awkward, especially when Ichigo had been sitting cross-legged, facing the blunette as they attempted to act indifferent to the situation and shoot the breeze. Every time he or Grimmjow had shifted, inadvertently brushing against the other, the tension had been tangible. But the liquor had served its purpose well, relaxing the two males to the point that they simply fell into old patterns – and without even realising it. Ichigo was now reclining back against the armrest, his legs crossed at the ankles and propped comfortably in Grimmjow's lap, whilst Grimmjow had resorted to lounging deep into the cushions, one arm draped over the opposite armrest and his other thrown lazily over the younger's shins.

For the longest while they had kept the conversation formal and, well, artificial. The more they relaxed, however, the more adventurous the exchange had become, the minutes ticking away rapidly unbeknownst to the two too busy reminiscing to give a shit. Hence Ichigo's current shock at having just found out that his blue haired ex-lover hadn't fucked a single sinner since their break-up. Obviously, Ichigo thought it was total bull, as he was so eloquently letting the older male know right now.

"No. Just…_no_. I refuse to believe you haven't had sex for that long. I mean, when we were together it was like you couldn't _ever_ get enough, pawing all over me all hours of the day and night." Having just realised what he'd let tumble freely from his own traitorous mouth, Ichigo blushed hard, covering his faux pas with a nervous cough and an overly eager swig of his drink.

Grinning at the overly cute sight, Grimmjow tilted his head back, staring at nothing in particular as he gave a noncommittal shrug. "What can I say? The thought of touchin' someone else, of _them_ touchin' _me_, is just downright repulsive." Letting his head loll to the left, his gaze landed on expressive ochre, causing his insides to knot in the most pleasant kind of way. He didn't even think before uttering, "Yer special, Ichi. No one else will ever compare to ya, not if they had the rest of their lives to try."

He willed it not to, but Ichigo's heart soared at those words, blood rushing into his neck and the tips of his ears to turn his blush scorching. Licking his suddenly too dry lips, he slowly retracted his legs, rubbing at the back of his neck as he struggled to come up with a response. When nothing came to mind, he sighed in defeat and opted for a failsafe.

"It's getting late…" he muttered, letting the rest of the sentence speak for itself.

Sitting upright, Grimmjow felt like smacking himself. What the fuck had he been thinking, spewing that nonsense when he knew he should be treading lightly? Damn, and they'd just been getting into the swing of things too, chatting and having a laugh like they used to so long ago. It had been nice, familiar – how long had he been waiting for this opportunity? For the chance to sit down and simply _talk_ to his Berry again.

Go figure that it would be _his_ fucking mouth that would go and spoil everything.

He felt like there was still so much left unsaid, too much left hanging in limbo. A quick glance at the clock on the mantelpiece revealed that it was fast approaching 1AM, so it wasn't like Ichigo was trying to get rid of him – at least, not completely. But the gnawing feeling wouldn't leave him be, sat heavy and insistent on his heart, silence once again stretching out between them, until…

"Can I ask ya a favour?"

Turning an inquisitive brow on the elder, Ichigo found the blunette staring intently at him, those cerulean orbs boring into him with a look so comparable to desperation he felt his heart kick it up a gear. Knowing that he should deny the request, especially when facing an expression of that magnitude, Ichigo turned a blind eye to his better judgement and nodded his consent.

Shifting slightly to better face the younger, Grimmjow didn't think twice before voicing his request. "Kiss me."

Ichigo blinked. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't _that_.

"Uh, Grimm…I really don't think–"

He was cut off when a large hand wrapped around his bicep, the touch sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"_Please_, Ichigo," Grimmjow surprised them both by begging, his grip tightening in urgency, yet not enough to cause any harm. "One kiss, that's all am askin'. Just one an' then I promise I'll go, I'll walk straight out that door an' everything can go back to the way it was. Ya have my word."

Ichigo's heart gave a perceptible twinge at that, the thought of their lives returning to the way they were before tonight not sitting well in his gut, even knowing that there was no other way it could end.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the regression to better, happier times. Or maybe it was the fact that Grimmjow; brash, feral, untouchable Grimmjow, had been reduced to something as lowly as begging for a simple kiss. Whatever the reason, Ichigo found himself blocking out the little voice – his logical sense of reasoning, most likely – in the back of his head, not bothering to voice his permission but rather taking the bold first step and inclining forward, pressing his lips almost cautiously against the blunette's.

Grimmjow was genuinely shocked. Shocked that he didn't have to plead more, that he didn't end up with a black eye or an earful of colourful expletives for even suggesting it. But perhaps most shocking of all, was the fact that Ichigo had been pressed up against him, those soft pink lips caressing his own for a good five seconds now, and he had yet to respond.

For someone who seemed so desperate for it, Ichigo was a little miffed, not to mention a whole lot embarrassed, when he took the initiative and received nothing in return. Mortified, and admittedly rather disappointed, he made to pull away, only to have a callused hand wrap around the back of his neck, effectively stalling his retreat as rough lips finally reciprocated, crushing firmly against his own.

Liquid fire raced through Ichigo's veins at the contact, and, just like when they'd been talking, he fell into old habits, his body arching forward into the blunette and his lips parting obediently at the feel of the man's tongue eagerly swiping across them. Humming pleasantly at the cool, intoxicating taste that was uniquely Grimmjow, he slid his hands up a broad chest and over strong shoulders before wrapping his arms around his neck, his tongue pushing against the intruder almost fervently. God, it had been much too long.

Grimmjow was so far above cloud nine right now he'd long since lost count. He couldn't quite believe this was happening, that he had Ichigo not only clutched securely within his arms, but that the fiery redhead was kissing him – and so fucking ardently at that. At most he was expecting a quick lip-lock, a brief meeting of lips and tongues, before he imagined Ichigo to become uncomfortable, to evade and fall back. Not _this_; his beautiful lover moulding and melding against him, slender fingers teasing the hair at the nape of his neck as he commanded authority, mouths locked as tongues twisted and curled around each other. Fuck, Ichigo was practically crawling into his lap as they reclaimed familiar territory and got reacquainted with flavours they never truly forgot.

Ichigo was rapidly losing himself, all five of his senses short-circuiting and going haywire as Grimmjow flooded his system. It wasn't until a hand dropped to his thigh, strong fingers stroking up and down a few times before gamely wandering to his inner thigh, that he suddenly resurfaced from his delirious stupor.

Knowing he'd pushed his luck too far when peachy digits fisted disapprovingly in his hair, Grimmjow reluctantly withdrew his hand, slowing the dizzying pace of their passionate embrace until they stopped altogether. Resting his forehead against Ichigo's, he took a moment to simply take it all in; shining orbs darkened to a rich chocolate brown, freckled cheeks flushed an adorable rouge, hot breaths panted out of lightly swollen lips to mix with his own.

Fuck, it was probably for the best that they stopped when they did. Ichigo had always been too much of a temptation when they were together, and if anything it was only so much worse now, like he was the forbidden fruit he knew he wasn't allowed to have. And damn it all if he hadn't gone and taken a huge, Jaws sized bite out of that oh so delectable fruit.

Christ, he was so incredibly messed up.

Untangling himself from the addictive warmth he'd once called his own was so fucking hard, but he persevered and, after a good bout of mental scolding, eventually managed to extricate himself. Rising abruptly to his feet, he righted his shirt and grabbed his jacket from its resting place on the back of the couch.

"It was great seein' ya again, Berry," he stated as he pulled his jacket on, purposefully avoiding the younger's avid staring. "Thanks for the drink an', uh…well, y'know. I'll see ya 'round."

He'd barely taken a step before;

"Wait!"

Ichigo honestly had no idea what in the hell was running through his brain the moment he jumped from his seat, grabbing the blunette's wrist to stop him in his tracks. All he knew was that he couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the hammering of his heart or the crushing feeling of bitter loneliness the very second Grimmjow left his side.

Bowing his head from the questioning gaze of the other, Ichigo gently squeezed his wrist. "Please, Grimm…don't…"

"Don't?" Grimmjow asked, puzzled. "Don't what?"

"Don't go." Closing the diminutive distance between them, Ichigo forced himself to look up, to look into the eyes of crystallised blue that he adored so much it physically hurt. Forget that his voice was shaking, that his eyes were prickling with tears and his fingers trembling, he couldn't bear to let Grimmjow leave. Not this time…not again. "Please, stay with me tonight. I-I…God. I don't want you to go…"

Feeling his breath clogging up in his throat, Grimmjow hesitantly curled his free arm around a slim waist. "D'ya have any idea what you're askin' of me, Ichigo? Shit, am tryin' my best to keep myself in check here, but you're makin' it really difficult to just walk away."

"I know," Ichigo murmured, his tone heavy with uncertainty. "I know I'm being a selfish, self-centred jerk right now, but I need this…I need _you_, Grimmjow." Taking a deep breath, he felt a single, hot tear of failure rolling freely down his cheek when he blinked. "I'm so sick and tired of trying to find something to fill the void you left behind, of searching for some_one_ who can measure up to the man that I gave my everything to, only to come up empty time and time again, to realise that he just _does not exist_ because _you_ are _it_. You're literally the only one for me, Grimm. I can't find happiness with anyone else because there _is_ no one else." Clutching fiercely at the blunette's thermal, he threw caution to the wind and laid his soul out bare, praying beyond all reasonable hope that he wasn't about to be too badly burned. "I don't want to be alone anymore, Grimm. If it can only be for one night, I want to love you again. I want _you_ to love _me_ again. I know its asking too much, of the both of us, but please…stay."

With so many emotions suddenly whirling through him, Grimmjow honestly didn't know how to react to those words. By agreeing to stay, he was opening an old and horrifically painful wound, one that had taken him too damn long to sew shut – and that had never truly healed. Could he do it? Could he really spend the night here and then simply leave tomorrow? Come morning, would Ichigo be disgusted with him for taking advantage when it was clear he wasn't thinking straight right now? Would it make things worse than they already were?

Using his thumbs to brush away the tears still silently escaping from the corners of his lover's eyes, Grimmjow made his decision. He would surely end up in the deepest pits of Hell for it, but fuck it, if Ichigo wanted one night of indulgence, only last night to be selfish and take everything he had to give, then he would gladly give it. Damn be the consequences; for Ichigo, he would do anything.

"Are ya sure this is what ya want?" he asked, pulling that lithe body closer still as he offered the younger male a final out. "Don't dare toy with me, Ichigo. As soon as ya give the go-ahead, I won't listen to a single fuckin' word of restraint, ya hear me?"

"I hear you," Ichigo replied, chuckling slightly as he allowed himself to be crushed against the larger male's body. He could feel his blood singing in anticipation as he slipped his arms around a corded neck, his fingers tangling into locks of electric teal. "I've missed you like fucking crazy, so don't _you_ dare hold back on me."

An infectiously happy smile ripped across his mouth as he rocked onto the balls of his feet, his lips brushing in a feather light caress across the shell of the blunette's ear as he whispered the words he'd longed to say since the very instant his lover left…

"I love you, Grimmjow."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ...**

**Am sorry, okay? Mah self-control is fuckin' diabolical! What was supposed to be a OneShot-turned-TwoShot has now spiralled out of control thanks to mah overeager, vomit-inducing imagination - as per usual. Gah! At least two-thirds of this wasn't even _supposed_ ta be in it! I just started writin', and it all got away from me... Again.**

**_Rawwwwwr~_ - *mildly angry growly***

**So yosh, as am sure yah'll have figured, there will be at least one more chapter ta come. I can only apologise again fer gettin' carried away - I never mean to. Am sorry ta keep yah's all waitin' fer what it is am sure yer all waitin' for *winky cough* Hence expect things ta heat up next chapter (dur, obviously ^^)**

**I really wanted ta use mah other favourite Seme ever - Shiro-sexface-saki, but unfortunately he just wouldn't fit in with the tempo, not this time *sad purr* He's too wild an' confrontational, an' there's absolutely no way he'd ever back down or give up Ichigo for Grimm-kitten to move in on, so he just wouldn't work, dammit But oh well, Kaien's a very ample - and HOT - replacement, ne? Such a pretty boy, indeed...**

**Hope yah'll enjoy, an' aren't too disappointed that it's gonna be longer than first anticipated... Eep on a stick.**

**Have fun readin' if yah dare~**

**Ciao, mah sweets (:**

**Toringtino~**


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach - which I most certainly do _not_ - I reckon I'd be long dead by now. Seriously, merely thinking up Fiction plots is exhausting enough! Pfft...**

**Hi-Ho, Silver~!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>.:The Parent Trap:.<strong>_

_**Part Three**_

"_I love you, Grimmjow."_

How could four little words sound so fucking perfect? How could one meagre sentence inflict such an indescribable torrent of emotion? How could the tender declaration of adoration falling from lips so soft they rival the petals of a rose make him feel like this is right where he belongs – like he's finally come home?

How long had he waited to hear those words again? Those three, simple words that answered everything he'd ever wanted to know – did Ichigo still care for him? Did he still think about him? Yearn for his touch, long to hear his voice, wish that when he rolled over in the middle of the night there was a warm, loving body there to hold onto rather than the emptiness of cold, crisp sheets?

An supremely pleasant shiver, unlike any he's ever experienced before, wracked through Grimmjow's entire frame; his entire _being_. Groaning, he crushed Ichigo's body to him, burying his face in the crook of his neck to inhale his scent as his arms wound tight around his torso so that not a sliver of space was separating them. Nothing could drive them apart, not tonight. If one night was all they had, then Grimmjow was going to make the absolute most of it. Ichigo would never feel as important, as special,_ as loved_, as he would this night. Grimmjow would make him feel like nothing else on earth ever could, would show him just how much he cared for him, and how he had missed him more than he ever thought possible since the day he'd left. He would do it wordlessly, flawlessly, would shower Ichigo with such intense passion and blinding rapture he would forget his own name…

…but that was for later. Right now, he was going to rock his fucking world.

Drawing back enough to gaze down into shining ochre, Grimmjow pressed two fingers to the underside of Ichigo's chin, using the leverage to tilt the younger's head back slightly. With a sharp toothed grin, he dipped his head, pressing his lips in a teasing brush to his ear.

"I hope you're ready, Berry," he breathed, his voice a rumbling purr of seduction. "'Cause am about to show ya just how much I've fuckin' missed ya – an' I ain't gonna be gentle about it, either."

Ichigo shuddered at the pure, unadulterated lust dripping from the blunette's every syllable, his eyelids dropping to half mast as he clutched at the man's biceps. A wide smile broke out across his lips, his heart thrumming excitedly against his ribs as it pulsated vibrant, anticipated blood throughout his system. God, it had been too long. Too long since he last felt like this, since he last felt so warm, so energised…so damn _happy_.

"I'm ready, Grimm, believe me," Ichigo told him, a sensual grin settling across the width of his mouth as he pressed ever closer to his lover. Feeling quite confident that Grimmjow was holding him tight enough, he let go of his arms in favour of pressing his palms flat against the blunette's chest, his fingers splaying out as he ran them up underneath the lapels of his jacket to the wide planes of his shoulders. "I only hope you can handle me," he continued, smirking when he nipped playfully at a corded neck and Grimmjow gave a small warning growl. "After all, you're not the only one who's been abstinent all this time."

Shirking out of his jacket when prompted, Grimmjow let a feral smirk rip across his face. "Glad to hear it, _kitten_. I'd hate to have to go killin' any poor sap that touched _my_ property."

A narcissistic, domineering remark such as that would have earned the crowing blue haired demon a swift jab in the jaw when they'd been together, but not this time. This time Ichigo couldn't help but hum at the overbearing, authoritarian tone, one denoting that he belonged to Grimmjow and no one but. This time, instead of feeling like a prized hunk of meat, a prestigious trophy to be displayed and admired from afar, he felt like there was literally no one else in the whole world he possibly _could_ belong to – it made him feel wanted, unique…worth every ounce of the man he'd built himself up to be.

Knowing that there was nothing Grimmjow enjoyed more than having his frankly _monstrous_ ego stroked, Ichigo gave a coy smile, his hands sliding up the sides of the blunette's neck and face to tangle in thick, teal hair.

"Yes, Grimm," he murmured, teasing ochre locking with vastly darkening cerulean, their mouths a mere hairsbreadth apart so that each and every bated breath mixed and mingled. "I'm yours. I've always been yours."

Grimmjow had more than a few choice words to say to that, all of which would have spoken of the blinding accuracy of the statement in some form or another, but he never got the chance to voice them, not when slender fingers suddenly fisted in his hair and his head was yanked down, obliterating the scant millimetres of space between their mouths.

Immediately forgetting that he even knew _how_ to speak, much less what he had been about to say, Grimmjow quickly took advantage of the situation, pressing forward into an enthusiastic body at the same time his tongue made short, hungry work of reacquainting itself within the moist confines of Ichigo's mouth.

Like dropping a toaster in the bathtub, electricity was suddenly coursing _everywhere_, consuming Ichigo to his very core as his blood sang out in vivacious yearning and his body whirred in a chaotic storm of long repressed desire. Grimmjow's tongue was strong and insistent against his own, mapping out places Ichigo had forgotten were there as it flicked and pushed against his own, demanding a response, retaliation, lest it overrule and risk choking him.

When Ichigo moaned into the kiss, hands curling tighter in his hair and body practically melting against him, Grimmjow honestly thought his legs were going to give out. What a beautiful fucking sound, and one he had been denied for far too long. Sure he'd dreamed about it, had conjured up the toe-curling sounds his fiery lover could produce in the throes of passion to see him through many a lonely night when his only companion had been his trusty right hand – but a moaning dream-Ichigo was nowhere near as fucking perfect as flesh-Ichigo. Not even fucking close.

Breaking the contact for a brief intake of air, Grimmjow gave a playful nip to a nicely plumped up bottom lip, the ragged breathing of his lover like the sweetest symphony to his ears. "Fuck, Berry. D'ya know how fuckin' sexy ya sound right now?"

"Mmm," Ichigo smiled, his hands gliding down the blunette's torso to toy with the hem of his shirt. "I haven't even gotten started yet…"

Grimmjow's own grin was nothing short of predatory. "Now _that's_ what I like to hear."

Mouths meeting in another soul-sucking kiss, Grimmjow made short work of the buttons on Ichigo's shirt, fumbling on several of the little plastic discs when peachy fingers dipped under the material of his thermal, those sinful digits searing against his sun-kissed flesh as they investigated every dip and line they could reach. Growling low in his throat when the pads of Ichigo's thumbs flicked over his nipples, Grimmjow quickly realised he didn't quite possess the brain capacity for the delicate task he'd assigned himself, and, gripping down to where he had managed to open, promptly ripped his way through the rest.

Ichigo didn't care one iota for the ruined garment now being tugged off his arms alongside his waistcoat, not in the fucking slightest. In fact, if anything, it only prompted him to return the favour, their delirious contact broken a second too long in his opinion as he yanked the blunette's t-shirt over his head. He wanted to take a moment to drink in the sight of that wonderfully sculpted torso, of clear-cut abs and rippling pectorals, of miles and miles of taut, tanned skin and the delectable 'V' that started at the crest of his hipbones before disappearing from sight behind the hem of white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. But apparently there was no time for the idle luxury of awestruck gazing, and he soon found himself caught in another fierce embrace, rough textured lips he'd never grown tired of experiencing eclipsing his own.

Grimmjow couldn't find a word quite accurate enough in his rapidly dwindling vocabulary to describe the downright beautiful feeling of Ichigo's slim line body pressing against his own. Now that their shirts had been discarded, there was nothing to hinder tan and peach from reuniting, his own larger frame easily encompassing that of Ichigo's as he pressed forward into the kiss, the contact between them strong and needy, yet almost delicate in familiarity.

"Christ, I've missed ya, Ichigo," Grimmjow rumbled, sharp teeth catching a lightly swollen bottom lip as large hands ran roughly down a smooth back, his fingers tracing every rib and sloping curve before curling around protruding hipbones in a doting but highly possessive manner.

Answering in kind, Ichigo flicked his tongue out against Grimmjow's upper lip, gently sucking it between his teeth to give a soft nip, his hands working of their own volition as they hungrily devoured every goddamn inch of the blunette's heated torso, giving sight to that which his eyes had been previously denied. His heart gave a pleasant flutter when his fingertips danced over quivering abdominals, caressing over a trim line of course hair he immediately identified as the man's happy trail.

Smirking wildly at the pleasurable shiver the younger body passed through to his own, Grimmjow detoured from plundering Ichigo's sweet mouth, taking the small whimper of protest as fuel to his greatly surging pride as he bent his head to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Inhaling a deep, languorous breath of the essence that was Ichigo, he felt his cock give an excited twitch in its now tightly compressed surroundings. It would seem that even 'Grimm Jr' could never forget the all too tempting aroma of a lust-hazed Berry – and what a damn divine aroma it was.

A quiet moan escaped Ichigo with no resistance when he felt Grimmjow's mouth brush sensually over the length of his shoulder, applying pressure every now and then in the form of chaste, sweeping kisses until he ran out of skin. He then worked his way back, this time dragging a longer, headier groan from the younger as he lapped his tongue over the warm flesh, deliberately scraping his teeth over certain areas just to feel Ichigo flinch and arc against him.

Oh yes, Grimmjow knew this body very well, and knew exactly how to procure the most palatable of reactions from it. He knew every sweet spot, each hot button; even if Ichigo had somehow developed one he was as of yet _un_aware of, he wouldn't complain. All the better, in fact. There really was nothing more satisfying than stumbling across a new pleasure switch to flip and abuse at his leisure, ultimately sending his lover into the spine-tingling depths of crippling desire – not to mention reaping the rewards when his senses were assaulted with fresh mewls and cries of appreciation at the discovery. Grimmjow could feel his blood boiling at the mere thought of it.

When absurdly pointed canines sank fiercely into the pliant skin just under the corner of his jaw, Ichigo positively purred, his arms winding underneath Grimmjow's so that his palms could rest flat against wide shoulder blades, blunt fingernails burying into sunned skin as he tilted his head and pulled the blunette closer, encouraging him to continue.

Groaning when rough lips adhered and gave a greedy suck, Ichigo felt like he wasn't putting in enough effort. Yes the pleasure Grimmjow was awakening inside him was impossibly glorious, his dick already rock hard and unmistakably dripping in spite of laughably minimal contact thus far, but that didn't mean he wanted to just sit back and receive. Hell no. He wanted to wreak his own havoc on the blunette, wanted to hear the lusty growls of possession and dominance the older would make when lost in his own throes, wanted to see that ruggedly handsome face twisting into a snarl of ecstasy as cerulean eyes burned a dark, oceanic navy. Ah fuck, he _needed_ to invoke a reaction. Like right now.

Boldly palming Grimmjow's obvious arousal with his right hand, and earning himself quite the sexy hiss that spiked his lust damn near tenfold, Ichigo then used his left to grab at the blunette's belt, guiding him forward even as Grimmjow continued to mercilessly ravage his throat.

Grimmjow blindly allowed himself to be led through the room, not caring in the slightest where his pretty lover might be taking them when it was evident they weren't even remotely close to wrapping things up – shit, the finish line was nowhere in fucking sight as far as he was concerned. He was momentarily at a loss when slim hands pushed firmly at his chest, just hard enough for him to stagger backwards, a frown tugging at his lips as they were forcibly ripped from the delectable treat that was Ichigo's neck with a barely audible smack.

Growling low in his chest to exhibit his displeasure, Grimmjow scowled. "The fuck, Ichi?" he objected, a hand already reaching out to reclaim the appealing touch and warmth of the other. "I thought we were–"

"Shut up and sit down, Grimm," Ichigo interrupted, pressing his middle and fore fingers directly between Grimmjow's pectorals and giving another firm shove.

Grimmjow could only grunt as his calf's collided with the couch and he fell back onto the leather cushions, only now realising that this is where Ichigo had intended them to end up. Cocking a curious brow up at the younger, he was pleasantly surprised – and a whole lot turned on – to catch the sultry undertones shining behind those ochre eyes, his heavy member practically bouncing in anticipation. The liquid fire racing through his veins only stoked hotter when Ichigo dropped to his knees, situating himself between his spread legs, slender hands gripping his thighs as carnation pink lips quirked up in a vixenish smirk.

"I've missed you, too," Ichigo hummed, his honeyed voice laced with salacious implications as his hands felt their way north over the coarse denim of Grimmjow's jeans, his thumbs coming within teasing range of the predominant bulge in the blunette's groin, yet purposefully denying any contact as the digits continued toward their goal; a silver belt buckle. "Sit back and relax, _Pantera_," he purred, deftly releasing the buckle whilst maintaining hooded eye contact with the madly grinning older male. "Let me show you just how much I've longed for this…how much I've longed for _you_."

Oh, _fuck_ yeah. Grimmjow was pretty damn certain his brain malfunctioned the very instant his rank's insignia rolled off of that sinful tongue. _Pantera_. He'd always been proud of that, that his detail and district had acquired what was, in his opinion, the most fearsome and ferocious of all predatory cats. It signified prowess, poise, tact, cunning, a certain degree of grace, and, of course, ruthlessness. Ichigo had always said that that was him summed up in animal form, always jokingly adding that he shouldn't forget bone-idle and prone to napping in the natural heat of the sun. Still, it never ceased to turn him on when Ichigo used it in intimate situations like this. Honestly, the brat should know by now that using it _at all_ was only inviting the carnal beast constantly caged up and stalking inside of him out to play.

Grimmjow grunted in approval when a lean hand suddenly wrapped around his largely swollen arousal – _when did Ichigo undo his pants?_ Shit, he had to pay more attention! Slipping his eyes closed in delirious contentment when slim fingers began to stroke the heated and ramrod stiff flesh almost tentatively, his head lolling of its own accord onto the back of the couch, he let soft groans of stimulation spill freely from between his parted lips.

Ichigo was quite glad that Grimmjow had given into indulgence at this particular moment, just so that he wouldn't notice the – he was fairly positive – comical look on his face right now. He could feel hot blood pooling into his cheeks and neck at the sight of the blunette's throbbing cock. His very _long_, very _thick_ cock. Fuck. He'd nearly forgotten just how well endowed the older man was, and was suddenly blanching with the thought that it had been over eleven months since he was last penetrated. Okay, so on the odd, lonely companionless night, he succumbed to temptation and – admittedly whilst his imagination ran rampant with mind-numbingly steamy pictures of his blue haired lover, usually naked and complete with shit-eating smirk – he may have sank a finger or two into himself, blindly searching for that incredible burn and bone-quivering bliss his ex had always managed to locate and exploit so damn easily. But it just wasn't the same, and it was painfully obvious now that he was so visually reminded, that even at his most daring when he'd bravely explored himself with four fingers, it still wasn't going to be comparable to _that_ monster when it eventually breached him.

Swallowing thickly, he pushed that thought to the further recesses of his mind, figuring there was no real point in fretting about the inevitable. Instead, he put his focus into the task at hand – pun intended. Making as tight a cylinder as he could manage with his fingers, he gave the large organ a few firm strokes, delighting in the way Grimmjow groaned and his thighs tensed in pleasure. Grinning to himself, he dragged his hand up to the swollen head, gently squeezing and twisting whilst simultaneously thumbing at the leaking slit, spreading the few pearls of precum that had gathered around the heated flesh.

Grimmjow's mind was fogging over in aphrodisia, his lungs having to work considerably harder to draw in a breath than was considered normal as pleasure overwhelmed his senses. Though none of that was comparable to the white hot lightening that whipped through his every nerve end, kindling the blazing coil in his stomach, when he felt something hot and moist flatten against the head of his dick. Lust darkened eyes snapping open, he glanced down to find Ichigo lapping at his arousal like a ravenous kitten would a bowl of cream, that provocative pink muscle gliding against his member in the most delicious kind of way. Ochre eyes flicked up to catch his own, a devilish light sparking behind them before petal soft lips encased around the tip and Grimmjow's world erupted into a heavenly humid euphoria.

A feral growl vibrated in Grimmjow's chest when Ichigo gave a soft suck before descending, taking in as much as he could manage at the moment whilst his hand picked up the slack, Grimmjow's hands clenching at his sides when he felt the silken insides of Ichigo's cheeks dragging over his shaft with each ascent. Shit, he wanted nothing more than to fist his hand in those tangerine locks and force that wicked mouth to the fucking hilt, but knew full well that such a rash and dominant action would hinder before it would help. Ichigo would surely need time to adjust to his size again, even during oral – he would just have to be patient. Not that he'd ever truly practised restraint before.

"Fuck, Ichi," he mumbled breathlessly, his hands trembling with the need to do…well, _something_. "You're doin' good down there…" He bit down sharply on his tongue when Ichigo hummed in consent, sending bolts of electricity straight to the heat pooling in his abdomen as that mouth slid down about an inch further than before. It was oh so fucking wonderful. "_Nnghn_, shit…you're doin' _real_ fuckin' good."

Encouraged by the purr-laced words of the blunette, Ichigo momentarily pulled off of the pulsating arousal, tongue lazily teasing the large vein on the underside, allowing him time enough to draw in a full, deep breath, before making another conscious effort to engulf the powerful organ.

Grimmjow briefly panicked that his sweet, sweet rapture was ending before the final conclusion, a snarl already painted across his face to convey his disapproval and resentment. So when he was suddenly surrounded in wet warmth a second time, he couldn't help but hiss in gratification – and a little relief.

"Guhn, fuck…" Grimmjow ground out past clenched teeth, his brow furrowed in a pleasure concentrated frown when pink lips sank down unabated on his dick, a strangled roar of ecstasy escaping easily when he felt his head push against the back of Ichigo's throat. "Shit, Ichi…that's it, just like that…" This time he didn't hesitate to track his fingers through orange tresses, his hand pressing down firmly on the back on Ichigo's head as he fought down the urge to start bucking his hips up into that fantastic heat. "_Mmghn_, so good. So fuckin' goo–_ahh fuck!_"

A blinding white washed behind Grimmjow's closed eyelids, his fingers virtually wrenching at Ichigo's hair when he swallowed once, twice,_ three fucking times_ around his mouthful, his throat relaxing expertly and his breathing controlled in long inhales through his nose. He felt rather accomplished when his nose finally brushed against crisp blue curls, the seductive sounds of his lover drawing in ragged breaths and cursing like a sailor more than making up for the harsh grasp he had in his hair.

An exhilarating shiver streaked through Grimmjow's entire frame, his balls sitting heavy and damn near ready to burst as they pulled up toward his body. He wasn't going to last much longer, not like this, not when Ichigo was deepthroating him like he was born to do so, when that talented tongue flattened against his damn near painfully hard shaft and slender hands worked their way beneath him to take a fierce grip on his ass, squeezing enthusiastically and angling his hips further up. Oh god, the torture was just too sweet to bear.

Grimmjow had no time to warn his pretty lover before he suddenly released, legs tensing and hips jerking as his climax ripped through him, the impact bordering on violent. Ichigo winced when strong fingers fisted painfully in his hair, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as his head was held down, forcing him to swallow every hot, thick spurt of the blunette's seed as it generously coated the back of his throat. Not that he particularly minded, he'd always rather enjoyed the potent, heady taste of his lover – he simply wasn't prepared for the unexpected torrent currently shooting down his gullet.

When Grimmjow finally laxed his grip, Ichigo drew back, letting the spent member fall from his lips and using the back of his hand to wipe at the corner of his mouth. Grimmjow could only watch with hooded eyes, his post-orgasm delirium still buzzing through his veins and rendering him a tad bit brainless.

"Damn, Berry," he husked, ruffling his dampened bangs. "That was fuckin' sensational."

Ichigo gave a proud grin, leaning forward to catch a wayward bead of sweat rolling off the blunette's collarbone on his tongue. He shuddered at the taste, his own evident – and dismally neglected – arousal giving an impatient throb.

"Mm, thanks," he hummed, crawling up into Grimmjow's lap, inflicting a sensual nip to the man's earlobe. "Wanna take this upstairs?" he purred, swiping his tongue along the shell as he rolled his hips, conveying his keenness. "Let's go to bed, Grimm. _Our_ bed…"

Grimmjow growled, his heart swelling. _Our bed_. God that sounded good. Curling his fingers around slim hips, not to stop his young lover's movements but rather to encourage them, he gave a fierce smirk. "Ya got'a be kiddin'. The bedroom's for lovemakin', Berry. I can't risk sullyin' it with the kind'a nasty shit am about to do to ya."

A bright fire ignited behind ochre eyes at the declaration, Ichigo mirroring the blunette's savage leer. "Sounds like a challenge, _Sexta…_"

Grimmjow's hold became bruising, a low rumble reverberating in his chest as his eyes constricted to slits. "Ya better watch that dirty lil' mouth a'yours, _Ichigo_, before ya end up cashin' a cheque your body can't pay."

Ichigo chuckled, the sound one of pure defiance, his slender fingers delving into a mane of wild blue hair to roughly tug Grimmjow's head back. "Do your worst, Grimm. I can take anything you've got."

Lips splitting into the kind of grin the Cheshire cat would envy, Grimmjow snarled his consent. "As ya wish, babe."

Jerking that lithe body forward, Grimmjow went straight in for the kill, hungrily attacking Ichigo's throat with a vicious bite as his hands busied themselves with the task of unbuttoning his jeans. Ichigo sighed pleasantly through his nose when the heavy pressure around his groin was lessened, his breath hitching when his precum saturated length was freed from its cotton confinement and a large, callused hand immediately started up a torturous stroking.

"Hahh, Grimmjow…"

Grimmjow let cerulean orbs fall shut at the breathy little mewl of his name, his ears drinking down the fucking beautiful sound like it was ambrosia. His dreams really didn't even begin to scratch the surface, couldn't _hope_ to compare to the real deal. Letting the flattering tenor roll over him like a warm wave of temptation, Grimmjow quickly pressed his index and middle finger past the parted lips of his panting Berry, Ichigo not missing a beat as he closed his mouth around them, ochre eyes flaring a teasing honey-gold as he re-enacted his earlier performance. Grimmjow could only groan at the sight, his left hand squeezing around the glistening head of Ichigo's cock in retaliation.

Grimmjow gave a little warning growl when he tried to pull his fingers back, only to have Ichigo nip at the tip of his pointer, holding it prisoner as that hot tongue ran flat along its length, a mischievous grin curling pink lips all the while.

"You're really tryin' my patience here, Ichigo," Grimmjow stated, a cruel sneer streaking across his features when he dug his thumbnail into a drenched slit and Ichigo released him in order to gasp. "Didn't your mother ever teach ya not to play with fire?"

Ichigo shuddered in anticipation when saliva slick digits trailed a wet path down his spine, giving rise to goosebumps as the moisture cooled rapidly against his too hot flesh.

"Maybe I wanna be burned," he answered, his voice quivering as those wicked fingers dragged ever lower, dipping under the hem of his olive green boxer briefs and following the cleft of his ass.

Grimmjow purred out his approval when the pads of his fingers brushed over the twitching entrance of his lover, a bestial smirk tilting his mouth at one corner when Ichigo whimpered and rolled his hips, seeking desperately to have them breach him already.

"You're so fuckin' sexy when you're desperate," Grimmjow complimented in a husky tone, drawing small, idle circles around Ichigo's heat whilst his left hand kept up a steady pace around his cock. "Tell me, babe, did'ja finger yourself when I was gone?"

Flushing a delicious shade of cherry blossom pink, Ichigo gave a curt nod. "Y-Yes."

"Mm." Grimmjow rewarded the answer with a languorous lick to his clavicle. "Did'ja think about me, kitten? Did'ja imagine _my_ fingers penetratin' that sweet ass?"

Another affirmative. "I tried."

"Tried?" Grimmjow inquired, a slim blue brow cocked as he raked his teeth over a slender shoulder.

"It was never enough," Ichigo elaborated, his fingers clenching tight in electric teal locks as he put in a frantic effort to take those teasing digits within himself. "_I_ was never enough. It never felt the same…never felt as good…"

With his ego nicely catered for, and truthfully not possessing the patience to continue his sadistic little game, Grimmjow finally gave in to the beckoning heat of that tight pucker, echoing Ichigo's moan of satisfaction when he sank two fingers in and velvet walls immediately hugged around the intrusion. He couldn't help but smile. It was all so wonderfully familiar and pleasurably routine, like he hadn't just gone damn near a year without the intimate contact, like he hadn't been forced to live without the fan-fucking-tastic sensations his one and only instilled within him during their most devoted moments together.

Grimmjow made damn sure not an inch of Ichigo went unexplored, dragging the most beautiful sounds he'd heard, perhaps ever, from the pits of the younger male's soul. His rapidly awakening arousal was tortured by each breathy mewl and sharp intake of air, the blunette rapt with an all-consuming lust as orange brows furrowed and relaxed depending on where he caressed, as a pink tongue swiped over dry lips, leaving that mouth glistening and oh so ripe for the taking. A husky growl issued forth when Ichigo started grinding back onto his fingers, heavenly walls gripping him in intervals as the younger shamelessly begged for more. A third finger was added, meeting little resistance, Grimmjow smirking as he delved in deep, curling his fingers in just the right way, at just the right spot, searching with a practised ease for–

"Gr-Grimmjow! Hnn, _yesss_…fuck. Right there!"

–yeah._ That_.

"Mmm. That's it, Ichigo, _purr for me_."

Ichigo trembled at the rough, commanding voice, his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as the blunette tortured his highly sensitive prostate with expert fingers. If he wasn't so inebriated on his own desire, he might have found the wanton cries and exotic moans he unabashedly let slip somewhat embarrassing. But, as it was, he was too busy concentrating on keeping his own conclusion at bay to be worrying over something so trivial. The dual sensation of being filled and having his aching arousal tended to, coupled with the fact that it had been so long – read;_ too long_ – he knew his body was a ticking time-bomb, and he really didn't want the glorious high that only Grimmjow knew how to induce dissipating before the main event. In truth, he didn't ever want this moment to end.

Grabbing the older male's left wrist with shaking fingers, he forced the other to stop his ministrations. Grimmjow frowned, staring at a halo of luminous spikes as Ichigo dropped his head to rest upon his shoulder, sultry breaths fanning over his skin to give rise to goosebumps. Shit, he wasn't starting to regret his decision _now_, was he? He couldn't! Not when he was so close to reclaiming that beautiful body. Not when he'd long since lost the vast majority of his blood flow into his newly revived member.

"Ichi? S'everythin' okay?" he inquired, his tone expressing his insecurity in spite of trying his best to conceal it. "I didn't hurt ya, did I?"

An affectionate chuckle had Grimmjow breathing an inward sigh of relief, along with the words, "Of course not, idiot. When have you ever physically hurt me?"

"Never," Grimmjow smirked, affectionately nipping the tip of his ear before soothing the spot with a tender kiss. "Not unless ya asked for it, that is," he added with a purr.

Lifting his head, Ichigo rest his forehead against Grimmjow's, gazing deep into captivating pools of royal blue as he looped his arms around a thick neck. "I can't stand the teasing anymore, Grimm. I want you, need you…" Brushing his lips sweetly over the blunette's, he curled his fingers into his hair, absentmindedly playing with the longer teal strands at the nape. "I'm ready."

Pushing up, Grimmjow lay claim to petal soft lips in a brief but searing kiss, his large hands squeezing athletic thighs. His happiness at the notion of being allowed to continue was so vivacious, so tangible, he felt sure he was glowing.

"As ya like, kitten," he grinned, his cock giving an impatient throb at the sight of earthy orbs bleeding to black in the wake of carnal hunger. "Stand up."

Ichigo did as he was told without hesitation, his eyes following the blunette's every move as he promptly followed suit. His heart rate fluctuated when Grimmjow moved behind him, purposefully keeping as close as possible so that their bodies rubbed together, hot, sweaty skin sliding against hot, sweaty skin.

Quickly abandoning his cumbersome jeans and highly constrictive boxers, Grimmjow pressed himself flush against Ichigo's back, callused hands gripping slim hips in a possessive hold before gliding down so that his fingers could hook through occupied belt loops. A swift tug saw them slipping over those shapely hips and down muscled thighs, the blunette kissing down the younger's spine and smirking against peach hued skin when Ichigo started wriggling to help out.

Working together, they eventually freed Ichigo from his infuriatingly tight fitting denim prison, Grimmjow unable to help himself from cupping the shapely backside now hindered only by a pair of boxer briefs, the soft cotton material massaging his burning arousal quite nicely. It wasn't enough to hold his interest for long though, and hence they were quickly disposed of also. The feeling of his dick caressing between firm, fleshy globes was immensely more satisfying, as were they beautiful mews of his lover. Wrapping his arms in a tight embrace around Ichigo's torso, Grimmjow wordlessly guided them to their knees facing the couch, mentally appreciative of the cushiony, cream coloured shag carpet beneath them.

Pressing a palm flat between Ichigo's shoulder blades, Grimmjow pushed forward, forcing the orange haired male to rest on his forearms against the seat cushions. A convulsion wracked down Ichigo's spine as warm hands caressed down his ticklish sides, surveying every inch of skin he had to offer, before suddenly halting near the base of his spine. Confused, Ichigo craned his neck to peer at the stalling blunette over his shoulder, only to cringe when he realised what it was that had captured his attention.

Grimmjow couldn't quite wrap his brain around what he was seeing, despite it literally staring him in the face. "The fuck?" he muttered, his fingertips tracing the bold, black engravings, as if expecting to pull his hand away to find them coated in the dark ink. They weren't. "Holy shit, Ichigo. Did ya get a fuckin' tattoo?"

"Uhh…well I, that is…um…" he stammered, a furious shade of pink settling over the bridge of his nose. How the fuck could he forget about that? "Y-Yeah."

Grimmjow felt his heart thrum elatedly against his ribs. There, starting right abover the cleft of his ass – he'll just have to ignore the fact that some dude probably got a good gawk at his pretty lover's backside for now – and ending at the small of his back, was a little cluster of black paws, each one sporting sharp looking claws to make it look more like a predatory cat rather than your average domesticated feline. Like that of a tiger, or a leopard…or a _panther_.

It also didn't escape his notice that there were _six_ of them in total.

With a carnal growl, Grimmjow leaned down to lave a long, wet trail over the eternal ink, his fingers biting into Ichigo's hips and causing the younger to quiver against him. Sure it was done in a deliberately subtle fashion, but his juicy little Strawberry had gone and permanently branded himself not only with his rank, but also his insignia. He was so fucking far over the moon right now he was sure he was orbiting space.

"I take it you approve?" asked Ichigo, perhaps a tad more breathlessly than he would have liked.

Grimmjow delivered a sharp nip to the furthermost paw. "You bet your fuckin' ass I do, ya naughty lil' minx," he husked, gripping the backs of peachy thighs. "Spread 'em, kitten…"

Again Ichigo did as he was told, and Grimmjow growled at his submissiveness. Sweet Jesus if Ichigo didn't know just how to get his motor running. Positioning himself between those parted legs, his knees pressed against the inside of Ichigo's to keep them as wide and accessible as he pleased, he draped himself over his young lover's back, his left hand reaching to settle atop of Ichigo's whilst his right guided his eager erection toward an equally eager heat.

"Ya wanna know _why_ ya could never give yourself to another, my kinky Strawberry?" Grimmjow asked as he nudged his cock against Ichigo's winking entrance, earning himself a long, throaty moan. "It's because _no one_ knows this body like I do. And no one ever will." Rolling his hips forward, he sank the head past the first ring of tight – _oh so wonderfully tight_ – muscles, pausing there to give an admiring groan. "Who else knows that if I nibble here," he nipped sensually at the yielding flesh behind Ichigo's ear, the younger shuddering, "ya go weak at the knees? Or that if ya put just the right amount of pressure _right here…_" he let his now inactive right hand travel down from where they were connected to rub firmly at his perineum, drinking down a particularly delicious mewl, "…your eyes roll into the back a'your head? Who else knows that ya love the intimacy of lookin' into your lover's eyes durin' sex, an' yet your favourite position is facedown, on your knees, like a dirty…little…slut?"

That being said, Grimmjow snapped his hips forward, sheathing his entire length within Ichigo's silken heat in one brutal thrust. Ichigo gave a startled cry, tears springing to his eyes as he dropped his head to the couch and his fingers curled into fists. Yes he knew that Grimmjow was inhumanly well endowed, and as such expected to be stretched beyond his capacity – but _this_, this he was not prepared for. His channel was burning with a pain he'd long since forgotten, clamping down viciously on the intruder as it tried to force it back out, drawing a low hiss from the blunette behind him.

"Shit, Ichi…ya gotta calm the fuck down, or I'ma be leavin' here tomorrow minus a vital organ…"

"I know that," Ichigo groused, suddenly glad that Grimmjow had chosen this position so that he couldn't see just how much pain he was in. "It's been a while, y'know. I'm not exactly used to being _speared_ by huge dicks anymore…"

There was a brief pause, and then, "Ya think I have a huge dick?"

"Sh-Shut up!"

Grimmjow chuckled, giving another shallow thrust when he felt those warm, contracting walls relax enough to do so, trying to gauge if his young lover was ready or not. He prayed he didn't take _too_ long, not when he felt an acute craving to pound that beautiful ass right through to morning light hit him like a tidal wave.

Ichigo gave a low grunt at the action, but otherwise remained impassive, allowing the blunette to set up a steady, tentative rhythm. In spite of the pain threatening to tear him in half, he couldn't help but think; _finally_. Finally they were connected again. Not merely in the most obvious way of body-to-body, but in essence as well. It was hard to explain, but Ichigo had always felt it when they made love; feral or tame, it didn't matter. What _did_ matter was that he always felt like they had a deep, mutual correlation with one another, like they knew the others body, heart and soul from the inside out without ever having to try. Their love was effortless, all consuming, and wholly perfect in its own rights. It made his heart soar to be experiencing such a liberating sensation like it was the first time all over again.

Whilst Ichigo was busy contemplating their 'spiritual' connection, Grimmjow was far too busy losing himself in their very physical one. "Ngh, fuck…so tight, Ichi…so fuckin' tight…" he rumbled out, his right hand reaching out to lay over the back of Ichigo's, mirroring their left. Lacing their fingers together, Grimmjow drove himself a little deeper, bitting down possessively on the nape of his Berry's neck before swiping his tongue over the area.

Ichigo moaned, bowing his neck in offering to the ravenous blunette as the near disabling pain gradually began to subside, giving room to streaks of excited electricity that had his blood boiling and his lungs hastily depleting from heavy pants. He could feel a spreading warmth cascading in currents of heart-palpitating pleasure from the very crown of his head to the tips of his toes, seeping into the very marrow of his bones so that not a damn cell in his body remained unaffected. Affliction and discomfort ground down to dust with every single second that ticked by, with every fevered stroke of the blunette's gargantuan cock against his velvety interior, with every hungry kiss, lick, and nip to wherever the older man's mouth could reach. With each fluid and impassioned movement, Grimmjow was making him feel so appreciated, so desired and accepted…so irrefutably loved.

Grimmjow let loose a smothered snarl against a peachy shoulder when Ichigo started moaning and mewling like a bitch in heat, giving it back as good as he was getting it by grinding back into his every thrust. The temperature of the room was stifling, heady with the palpable flavour of lust, the silence filling with the erotic sounds of unadulterated pleasure and skin meeting skin as hips collided with bruising force. Grimmjow was in absolute nirvana, every one of his five senses beautifully assaulted; the dark, enticing scent rolling off of his lover's skin, the taste of said musk coupled with the salty tang of sweat as he laved his tongue over taut flesh, the feel of that wet canal hugging him like a glove, the orgasm-inducing sounds of mass fulfilment tumbling from pink lips, and, of course, the downright sinful sight of that lithe body writhing underneath him, of sculpted muscles bunching and rolling in appropriate intervals, some areas quivering and causing gooseflesh to ripple down his spine.

And it was all his. Every goddamn delicious fucking inch of it.

Ichigo's ragged breathing hitched when Grimmjow gave a ferine growl before suddenly driving into him like there was never going to be another tomorrow, the change in tempo enough to make his head spin and his back arch at impossible angles.

"Hahh, hn…Grimm_mmmghn…_"

Actions crazed and mind fogged, Grimmjow almost missed the wanton mew of his name, his concentration sold on bringing the two of them to the very pinnacle of mind-numbing euphoria. "Ugn, y-yeah? Whaddaya need…ne, Berry?"

"So cl-close…haa, _shit_…please Grimm, _more…_"

Grimmjow gave a Cheshire grin at the sultry request. "Of course, kitten."

Releasing Ichigo's right hand, Grimmjow curled it around his hip instead, blunt nails gripping hard enough to leave small crescent shaped welts, whilst his knees pushed out, spreading lean legs wider. Groaning lowly when his cock sank in even deeper, Grimmjow snapped his hips forward with renewed vigour, Ichigo keening beautifully at the new angle. With a few practised thrusts, it didn't take long to locate his pleasure spot, the head of Grimmjow's large arousal striking the spongy button with frightening accuracy. The shrill yowl of pure ecstasy he ripped from the core of his young lover after first contact with his prostate, along with the sporadic spasming of that wickedly tight passage, had Grimmjow fighting back the insistent urge to come on the spot.

"Aah, God – yes! Harder! So _nnnghn_…so fucking close!"

"Such a dirty mouth," Grimmjow hummed, but complied to his wishes nonetheless. Pistoning in and out of that addictive warmth with enough power to drive Ichigo's plaint body into the couch, Grimmjow used sharp, white teeth to pull at his lover's ear. He was surging dangerously close to the end, and he knew just what he wanted, what he _needed_, to give him that final push into the abyss. "Say it, Ichigo," he purred lasciviously, his breath hot and tickling against the sensitive flesh. "Ya know what I wanna hear… Now say it."

Ichigo had to take several deep breaths to re-inflate his starving lungs, and his mouth felt incredibly dry from hanging open so long; still, he persevered to please the dominating Alpha male.

"I-I love you."

Grimmjow groaned, pressing his chest flat against Ichigo's back, his pounding merciless. "Again, Berry. Say it again."

"I love y-you, Grimm."

Cock pulsating with the need to erupt, Grimmjow held Ichigo close, his lips brushing over his neck. "Again. More. Louder."

If the circumstances were different, Ichigo might have chuckled at the needy tone of the blunette, at the nagging insistence to have his love for him not only demonstrated, but also orally validated. It was kind of…_sweet_. Not that he'd ever tell Grimmjow that to his face.

Reaching back with his right arm, he looped it around Grimmjow's neck, ignoring the awkward angle as he tilted his head back to capture rough lips in a sloppy but passionate kiss. When he drew back, he made sure to maintain eye contact – hard as it was given the current situation – as he complied with the blunette's command.

"I love you, Grimmjow," he stated clearly, and with absolute conviction, inwardly praising himself for not stuttering this time.

With a guttural growl more suited for that of a ravenous wolf than any human man, Grimmjow took immense pleasure in plowing into Ichigo, the strength behind his energetic attack enough to move the couch forward a couple of inches. When teeth hungrily ripped into the soft skin on his throat at the same his prostate was struck, Ichigo felt his resistance to the inevitable instantly crumble, his head tossing back as he screamed out his climax for the whole damn street to hear, the only word even remotely comprehensible being that of Grimmjow's name.

Grimmjow only managed a scant few bucks more before the harsh contractions of his lover's inner walls reduced him to his own dizzying completion. Immersing himself as deep as he could manage, the blunette rumbled low in his throat as the searing coil in his abdomen finally unfurled, Ichigo's spasming channel effortlessly milking him dry not only of his hot, thick seed, but of his very vigour. Grunting, he rode out the receding shockwaves of his orgasm before collapsing forward, his forehead resting between Ichigo's shoulder blades as he held most of his own weight up on his forearms.

It took a good five minutes of recuperation time, wherein the only audible sounds were that of heavy, laboured breathing and the cheerful chirping of crickets drifting in from outside.

"Fuckin' Christ," Grimmjow muttered in a hazy, afterglow-drunken baritone. "I ain't got the words to describe what _that_ was…"

Ichigo couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the warm, sticky feeling of his own essence coating his stomach and, undoubtedly, the couch, but nodded his concurrence all the same.

Both men gave their own version of a sated sigh when Grimmjow eventually retreated from Ichigo's wonderfully full cavern, the blunette's lips curving into a lazy grin at the sight of those black paw prints on the younger's lower back. Unable to resist, he bent his head down to press small, doting kisses over each and every one of them, practically purring with delight at the symbolism of such a marking.

Standing up, he gave each leg a swift shake to get the blood flow going again, before offering a hand out to the younger. Ichigo took the proffered appendage, stumbling awkwardly into the blunette when his knees suddenly buckled out from under him. Grimmjow was quick to react though, easily catching his flustered prey before scooping him up into his arms. He barked out a laugh at the indignant look on Ichigo's face at the action, his perpetual scowl out in full force.

"Ne, don't pout, Berry," he purred, carrying the huffing brat through the room. "I'm merely conservin' your energy." Ichigo cocked a slender brow, to which Grimmjow gave a devious smirk. "In case ya didn't notice, I didn't tell ya that I loved ya back – an' I don't intend to, either. Instead, am gonna _show_ ya just how much I love you."

Ichigo blushed hot pink when Grimmjow kissed the tip of his nose, not entirely sure what to say to that, and thus opted to say nothing at all.

"I hope ya haven't got anythin' strenuous planned for tomorrow," Grimmjow continued, navigating his way out into the hall and toward the stairs. "'Cause you're gonna be one sore kitten come daybreak…"

* * *

><p><em>Well, when Grimmjow's right, he's right,<em> Ichigo mentally conceded as he took a seat – very delicately, he might add – at the breakfast bar that morning. He couldn't be sure, but he was fairly certain Grimmjow's eyes were grinning smugly at him and his disability as he watched him shuffle around from his position leaning against the kitchen counter. Ichigo glared petulantly at him in any case.

It was around ten in the morning, meaning that they'd had a dismal five hours or so of sleep. There was nothing Ichigo wanted to do more than curl up close to his teal haired panther and doze the entire day away, but he had to be up for Nelliel, who would be gracing them with her presence soon enough in spite of the fact that it was a Saturday and she had nothing better to do than watch cartoons and harass him into taking her to the park to feed the ducks. Hence here they were, Ichigo clad in clean black boxers and Grimmjow's grey thermal, and the blunette in his jeans and boxers from last night, torso naked to the world what with his shirt effectively commandeered. Ichigo wasn't going to complain though, not when that glorious Adonis physique and healthy, glowing skin was showcased ever so deliciously.

God. _Damn_. If he wasn't so decidedly raw this morning, after yet another round that had technically started without him, he was pretty sure he'd have jumped the older male's bones by now.

He couldn't deny that last night was nothing short of incredible, easily the best night of passion he'd ever experienced in his life. Grimmjow had done exactly as he said he would, worshiping him from head to toe with his hands, mouth, lips, tongue, body, heart, and his very soul. There wasn't a microscopic speck of his entire body that hadn't been explored in obsessive detail by his blue haired lover, not an inch of skin left unkissed or caressed, and with such gentility it was a wonder Grimmjow was doing it at all. For as long as he'd known the older male, their fucking had been just that; fucking. It was all about domination and laying claim to rightful possessions more than it was about simply being cherished. Ichigo had never disputed it though, because honestly he loved that he could drive the blunette so mad with desire that he marked and commanded and handled him like a rabid beast would its mate, and sure they had their tender moments, where rampant fucking simmered down into intimacy – but it had never been like _that_ before.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Ichigo drew in a deep breath through his nose. Grimmjow had gone above and beyond what he'd ever thought he was capable of, proving time and time again that not only did he love him, but that he would continue to do so for the remainder of time.

"Close your mouth, Berry," came the lilting tease, a lopsided grin warping Grimmjow's lips as he took a casual sip of his coffee. "You're startin' to drool."

Ichigo huffed, amplifying his typical scowl a notch as he promptly turned his attention to his own caffeine laced beverage. "I was not _drooling_. Get over yourself."

Grimmjow snorted. "Whatever ya say, babe."

Neither one of them had brought up the obvious, mammoth sized elephant in the room; Ichigo because he didn't know how to give voice to his internal concerns, and Grimmjow because he was terrified of any answer he might receive should he ask the obvious first…

…_What do we do now?_

Setting his mug down beside him, Grimmjow padded over to his anxious Berry, who had commenced the nasty habit of gnawing on the corner of his bottom lip as he stared off into space. Draping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his armpit, Grimmjow hugged him from behind, the high stool the orange haired male sat in meaning he didn't have to stoop too far to reach. Resting his chin on a slender shoulder, he took a moment to simply bask in the heavenly aura that was Ichigo Kurosaki, nuzzling his face into silky spikes to get a good lungful of that incomparable scent he loved so fucking much.

It was like Ichigo didn't even have to try; he was just sitting there, lazily returning his embrace with one hand gripping his forearm and a subtle lean into his larger frame, and Grimmjow was thrown for fucking six with a whole myriad of potent emotions. He'd felt the exact same thing this morning when he woke up, expecting the past lot of hours to be nothing more than a cruel, twisted nightmare, only to find himself staring at the back of a luminous orange head, his arms still curled tight around a slim waist and under a sinewy neck.

He'd been so fucking ecstatic at the discovery, so implausibly _happy_, that he just had to ravish the kid all over again. For the longest while Ichigo didn't even stir, still lost in the fantastical world of dreams as Grimmjow began sucking on the back of his neck, his right hand roaming over peach toned planes as his morning wood became categorically more prominent. He'd gotten as far as hoisting a lean leg up just far enough to grant him access to beckoning heat, gently nudging his keen arousal past the initial resistance before Ichigo finally roused, his first vocal of the day a beautiful, drawn out moan as Grimmjow got himself fully seated.

It had been slow and tender, and as quiet as they could possibly manage in case Nelliel was already awake – Grimmjow having to plant his hand over his Berry's mouth when nearing climax, whilst muffling his own ardent groaning in his shoulder. All in all, it wasn't exactly what Grimmjow was used to, but that didn't make it any less_ perfect_.

Ichigo sighed, leaning back into Grimmjow's embrace, a heavy, stagnant silence settling down around them, Grimmjow unwilling and unprepared to let go just yet, and Ichigo wordlessly enjoying the companionable warmth radiating off of the blunette's bare chest, breathing in his familiar citrusy musk that, even when ridiculously sore and dog-tired, made his blood simmer pleasantly beneath his skin.

Strengthening his hold, Grimmjow grit his teeth, already feeling the strain of the impending conversation before he'd even opened his mouth. God, last night had been so…so…_amazing_. He didn't want to jeopardise anything by talking, didn't want to shatter whatever magical spell that had been cast around them with unnecessary noise. Even if it meant he had to be a fucking mute for the rest of his damn life, he gladly do it. Without question. He was so madly in love with Ichigo it bordered on insanity – but how could he tell him that without risking everything they'd shared?

Shit. He didn't want this to end…

Closing his eyes, he let Ichigo; sweet, caring, passionate Ichigo, wash over him, drown him in the single most beautiful moment he would undoubtedly ever encounter in his lifespan, before drawing in a tired, weary breath. Ichigo tensed at the sound, knowing that the unavoidable was about to happen.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow began, hesitant of what he should follow up with. Should he thank him? Confess? Beg? Or just leave well enough alone? Clinging on just a little bit tighter, he decided to wing it, trusting his gut instincts to guide him. "Listen, about last night, I think we should–"

A small gasp, followed up with a bewildered, "Grimm-Pa?" cut him off mid-thought, the two men snapping their attention to the kitchen door where sea-foam green and sleep-fogged wheaten greeted them.

Grimmjow reluctantly stepped out of the comforting embrace, cursing under his breath as Ichigo's warmth slowly seeped from his veins. Ichigo didn't know what to think. On the one hand, Nelliel's convenient timing spared him the excruciating possibility of his heart being torn in two, something he was in no real rush to experience ever again, let alone right now. But on the other hand, how did he know for certain that what Grimmjow was about to divulge was necessarily negative? What if he wanted to reconcile, to tell him that he wanted to come home for good and never, _ever_, leave him so miserably heartbroken and wretchedly alone again?

Ichigo frowned at his own thought process. Wait, so did that mean that _he_ wanted Grimmjow to come back? Okay, so maybe last night was something of an eye-opener; he never thought it physically possible to love one individual so damn much, or to have that adoration returned seemingly tenfold – but in reality, what had changed? Grimmjow was still Grimmjow. He was still loud, crass, impulsive, domineering, ardent, sinful, sexy… Ahem. Point is, he was just as dangerous as he always was, was still a risk to involve not only in _his_ life, but Nelliel's as well…

"Grimmy!" said girl trilled, promptly tearing across the room to slam bodily into the taller male, Grimmjow grunting as he caught her in a tight hug – not that he had much of a choice in the matter.

"Mornin', kiddo," he smiled, easily hoisting her up to rest on his hip.

Nelliel beamed, wheaten eyes wide and shining prettily as she threw small arms around his neck. "I'm so happy you're still here! Does that mean you and daddy are back together again?"

The eager, almost pleading tone, coupled with an intense, starry-eyed gaze, had Grimmjow wincing, his cerulean pools beseeching his peachy partner to help out before he really stuck his foot in it.

Ichigo, catching the desperate, helpless look, gave a wan smile and stood from his seat. Stepping up to the pair, he brushed Nelliel's bangs from her eyes, idly noting that she could do with a haircut soon.

"It's kind'a complicated, Nels. Grimmjow and I are, uh…that is we, um…we–"

"We're workin' on it," Grimmjow interjected, pinning Ichigo with a hopeful gaze, one brow arching as if inquiring the accuracy of such a claim.

Ichigo's lips quirked up at the corners minutely, the younger male deciding he definitely liked the sound of that. It was nothing concrete, and yet hinted at a solid solution for further down the line. It was just what they both needed right now; an open commitment. Ochre locked with aquamarine, wheaten darting inquisitively between the two, when Ichigo suddenly inclined his head.

"Yeah," he stated confidently, one hand resting on his little girl's back as his other took residence on Grimmjow's bicep. "We're working on it."

Nelliel let her joy be known in the form of a jubilant, girlish giggle, whereas a wide, sharp toothed smirk was Grimmjow's response. Still cradling their daughter in one arm, he used the other to wrap around a slim waist and crush Ichigo to him, dipping his head to meld their lips together, 'sealing the deal' as it were. Ichigo grinned into the kiss, slanting his lips just enough to deepen the contact whilst the hand resting on the blunette's arm travelled up to tease the fine hairs of electric teal at the base of his head.

Nelliel squirmed, not overly enamoured with the intimate turn their little clinch had taken. With one last heated peck, Grimmjow released his prey, happy to note the slight flush tinting peachy cheeks, before stooping to gently set the grimacing child back on her feet. The young girl couldn't help but smile when, as soon as he was free from the burden of holding her, Grimmjow used the newfound freedom to wrap muscular arms around Ichigo's shoulders, holding him close as if afraid that even the smallest division between them might separate them for eternity. Ichigo seemed cautious at first, but when rough lips pressed lovingly against his forehead, a contented sigh rushed past his lips and he swiftly reciprocated, curling his arms around sharply chiselled hips.

Their blissful state of total unawares was promptly obliterated when Nelliel suddenly piped up, both men starting, clean forgetting that she was even in the room. Perhaps even more startling, however, were the actual words the young imp let tumble so flagrantly from her mouth.

"So, have ya's done the nasty yet? 'Cause if ya wanna have some alone time for make-up sex, I can go next door an' play with Halli."

Grimmjow didn't know whether he was choking on vicious laughter, or utter shock at the brazen statement – probably a whole heap of both. Whereas Ichigo turned a furious shade of red in his mortification, the sheer concentration of his blush enough to scald his skin. Nelliel remained unfazed, a fine brow rising toward her hairline as she waited impassively for an answer.

"Fuck me, Ichigo," Grimmjow got out after several rather painful seconds of shell-shock hush. "What the hell d'ya let that bloody kid watch?"

Ichigo scowled, his eyes narrowing. "Nothing inappropriate! Certainly not anything with that kind of language!" Jabbing an accusatory finger in the blunette's chest, he growled. "She probably picks it up from _you_. You're always cursing like some debauched truck driver around her!"

"Che. It ain't healthy to hold back around children," Grimmjow defended, folding his arms haughtily. "If they're gonna learn that type'a shit from somewhere, may as well be the parents, right?"

Ichigo blinked. "That's possibly _the_ most retarded thing I've ever heard you say… And stop swearing already!"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, snorting. "Chill out, Berry. Ya get so wound up over nothin'."

"Probably just needs to get laid," Nelliel concurred, banging a tiny fist into her open palm to affirm her words.

This time Grimmjow _did_ laugh._ A lot_.

"That's it!" a thoroughly affronted Ichigo snapped, pointing to his audacious child. "You! No more talking for the rest of the day. Not _one_ word. And you," he whipped round to glare at the cackling older male, "go and install parental locks on the TV, right now. Every damn channel! I'm going to take a shower, see if I can't cleanse my brain…"

Rubbing small, soothing circles over his temples, Ichigo quickly fled the scene, leaving Grimmjow and Nelliel to bask into the priceless delight that was a chagrined Strawberry. Reigning in his boisterous hysterics to a more levelled series of chuckles, Grimmjow picked the small girl up, throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked in giddy enjoyment.

"What _do_ you watch, brat?" he asked as he made for the living room, figuring he'd better get to work if he didn't want to get kicked to the curb again so soon after reconciliation.

Nelliel, hanging down over Grimmjow's brawny back, shrugged her shoulders as best she could given her position. "Jerry Springer mostly, but only when daddy's not around. American's are so funny!"

Grimmjow scoffed, nodding his head. "Yeah. That would certainly explain it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I dunno what happened. I was kind'a goin' fer intensity and detail - _che_. Big mistake! I ended up writin' this in bits an' pieces, then had ta find a way ta mesh it all together... But it didn't really work I don't think, an' in the end I think I just repeated mahself lots an' it all went ta Hell. Rawr~ to the maximum.**

**Anywho, I hope tha' any and all of yahs who do end up reading enjoy doin' so (: If you guys like it, then am nothin' more than yer Yaoi slave, here ta bend to yer every whim~ Aa. Probably shouldn't have said tha'... *shrugs***

**There will be a (hopefully much shorter) epilogue ta come, just ta wrap everythin' up in a nice teal'n'orange bow, an' that'll be that fer this one *purr***

**Thanks fer readin' Bellas, please do have fun, an' ciao fer now ^^**

**Toringtino~**


	4. Part Four Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own a single character. Only the rights to my own twisted insanity. I know which I would _prefer_ to claim... but shhh~**

* * *

><p><em><strong>.:The Parent Trap:.<strong>_

_**Part Four**_

Birthdays. A time for merriment and celebration, a day designed for loved ones to gather close, for all involved to forget past hardships and focus on something that truly matters; that one special person graced the earth, and henceforth the lives of their family and friends on this particular day. It should be a joyous and happy occasion, full of smiles and laughter – so why then did Ichigo find himself with one of the darkest scowls he can ever remember producing etching deeper and deeper into his brow? Well, that question can be summed up in one simple, infuriating word…

…_Grimmjow._

It was Saturday afternoon, April 24th – Nelliel's birthday. As was customary, he and his little Apple had made the short, twenty minute drive from their own abode to celebrate the day at his old family home. His father, one Isshin Kurosaki, still ran their family clinic – the same one he'd always hoped his son would one day take over, only for Ichigo to pursue his own interest in architecture – and, in spite of many, _many_ years to grow and mature, the man was still an eccentric old loon. Honestly, a man his father's age should be all about living out his glory days in peace and quiet, not endeavouring to randomly 'attack' his only son as soon as he laid eyes on him, only to then go bawling his eyes out to a giant memorial picture of their deceased mother when said attacks ultimately led to the same inevitable conclusion. For crying out loud, his lunatic father hadn't managed to land a solid hit on him since he was fifteen, and even then it was a total fluke when the orange haired male had been too distracted to anticipate the 'elbow-of-impending-misery' coming.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Ichigo pulled the sleeve of his pale blue Armani shirt up to reveal the face of his silver watch, his lip curling when he noted the time; 3:44PM. Damn it all to Hell, Grimmjow was nearly three fucking hours late! Forget his crazy ass dad, who treated the blue haired man like one of his own – "the fruit of my own hunky loins~!" – because when Grimmjow finally showed his face, _if he bothered to at all_, Ichigo was going to make sure it was _he_ who got the first blow in.

"Is everything alright, Ichi-nii?" a pleasant, feminine tone inquired to his left, promptly snapping Ichigo from murderous thoughts of electric teal and torrents of crimson.

Slapping a wan smile on his face, he tilted his head up to the source of the voice, having to crane his neck from where he sat on the wooden steps of their patio out back. "Yeah, everything's fine, Yuzu. Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Yuzu looked hesitant, but smiled and nodded nonetheless. Ichigo took a moment to study the girl, his precious little sister – well, she wasn't so much a 'girl' as she was a young woman now, he supposed. At twenty-two years of age, with shining honey-brown hair tumbling down to her shoulders, smouldering earthy brown eyes and a slim yet curvaceous body, she had really blossomed – much to Ichigo's chagrin. It didn't matter how old she got, he would always see her as his adoring, soft-hearted little sister, a fact made all the harder to cling on to when young boys started taking an avid interest in her during her early teens.

Ichigo will admit to taking his elder brotherly duties a tad bit too seriously, scaring off more than his fair share of 'admirers' with little more than a harsh glare and a few well placed expletives. It wasn't until he overheard her heartbroken sobs of "I'm obviously too unattractive to date!" to his other sister, and Yuzu's fraternal twin, that he'd reluctantly relented, allowing a few hopeful potentials to slip through his carefully woven net of brotherly protection. Hence now she was dating a young man by the name of Jinta Hanakari, and had been for the better part of two years.

Ichigo was still in two minds about that one, though. Jinta tended to be loud, obnoxious, and entirely too immature for someone claiming to be twenty-three years of age – his own father was obviously excluded from such labelling, the old fool being the 'exception' to damn near every moral and civil rule ever invented. Still, Jinta did have his redeeming qualities; such as diligently worshipping the very ground on which Yuzu trod. His unmistakable adoration for his little sister remained the only saving grace sparing him from Ichigo's wrath, and both knew it.

Standing now in a form complimenting white summer dress, her hair tied back in two pigtails and white pumps adorning her feet, Yuzu drew her attention away from her obviously bristling older brother, and instead focused on a squealing Nelliel who was being chased around a small picnic table in the backyard by their boisterous father, the table itself overflowing with shiny new gifts. The day was beautiful, the sun out in full-beam and the breeze gentle as it whispered over their skin, keeping all under the golden blanket of heat at a tolerable level of warmth. Sighing pleasantly, Yuzu took a seat beside her eldest sibling, sitting close enough to bump knees.

"You shouldn't worry so much, Ichi," she told her brother, still gazing fondly at the two frolicking 'children'. "I'm sure Grimm-nii will show up soon."

Ichigo couldn't stop himself, and scoffed derisively. "Yeah, _right_. I should've known better than to expect that bastard to actually turn up for something important." Raking a hand through his hair tetchily, he sighed. "Sorry, Yuzu. I didn't mean to curse."

Giggling softly behind her hand, Yuzu shook her head and pet her brother's luminous spikes in a very motherly fashion. "It's okay, onii-chan. I think I'm long since used to you swearing in front of me. For instance, every morning at breakfast when you and chichi got into petty squabbles about who had more food. Or every evening when you came home late for dinner and dad would pounce on you. Or every time you missed curfew and–"

"Okay, okay!" Ichigo interjected, waving his hands in a 'Dear god, please stop' motion. "I get it. I used to cuss a lot."

Yuzu arched a delicate brow. "'Used to'?"

Ichigo deadpanned, throwing an arm around her shoulder to pull her in close to his side and ruffle her hair affectionately. Yuzu squawked indignantly, trying to wriggle out of Ichigo's embrace as she shrieked and complained about her hair getting mussed up. Ichigo couldn't help but grin, remembering a time when the young girl used to openly display her delight at being pet, at receiving any sort of doting attention her perpetually temperamental older brother dished out. He guessed her priorities had changed somewhat, along with her developing body and expanding mind. His heart, however, swelled with a warming sense of pride when he noticed she still wore the little Strawberry hairpin he'd bought for her tenth birthday, the red clip taking purchase in her left pigtail. It would seem she hadn't grown up _too_ much then – and Ichigo couldn't be happier.

Roughly twenty minutes of relative peace rolled by, during which Ichigo forced himself not to think about the glaring absence of a certain _Sexta_, instead concentrating on the temperate weather beating down on their shoulders and keeping a mindful eye on his offspring as she easily overpowered his loony sire, the wee madam now sat upon his back as she squealed and declared Isshin her "pretty bearded horsey~!"

Ichigo was left in kinks at the look on his old man's face as he was kicked animatedly in the ribs and his spiky, jet black locks – now sporting a dusting of silver at the sides that made him look 'ruggedly dashing' apparently – were yanked on as if they were the reins to a bridle. Yuzu, bless her kind heart, was doing her best to calm Nelliel down from hurting the man too gravely, though she herself was trying to quell her own mirthful ream of giggles at the sight. It wasn't until Karin, the aforementioned other sibling, ventured outside with the words, "Oi, goat-face! Phone call!", that Isshin finally escaped his torture, excusing himself as he made his way indoors.

Nelliel pouted at the loss of her self-proclaimed steed, but didn't have long to dwell on it as Yuzu stepped up to the plate, distracting the youngest Kurosaki with one of her newest toys – a stuffed, plushy unicorn.

"A fickle mind _and_ short attention span," came a teasing, lilting voice from behind. "Jeez, Nel really _is_ your daughter, huh?"

Ichigo glared, but there was no real malice behind it. "I didn't realise her paternity was in question," was the sarky reply.

Karin merely _tch_ed, settling for rolling her eyes rather than being drawn into a petulant row. Being the more authoritative and hardened of the two twin siblings, she and Ichigo had tended to butt heads a lot more often than not, especially when transitioning through the difficult teenage years. Because Nelliel had been but a little babe around then, Ichigo would oftentimes treat Yuzu and herself like daughters rather than sisters, and where Yuzu was fine with such a thing, Karin was not. She'd always been very independent, even from a young age, and as such didn't respond well to being mollycoddled or any of that kind of crap. Don't get her wrong, she loves her brother and sister – even their goofball father – unlike any other, but she couldn't abide feeling like her wings were being clipped before she'd even gotten the chance to take flight.

Settling her hands on the crest of her vastly swollen belly, she couldn't help but surmise that maybe that's how she got herself into her current predicament – though quickly shrugged it off as unimportant. What was, was, and there was no changing the past. She wasn't entirely sure that she actually _would_ change anything now, even if given that chance. Again, unimportant.

Sighing, the older twin placed on hand on the small of her constantly aching back, and the other she used to grip the wooden handrail by the steps, attempting to lower herself to sit beside her brother. Ichigo was immediately on his feet, grasping her arm to gently guide her down. Predictably, Karin glowered.

"I'm pregnant, Ichigo, not a bloody invalid," she growled. "I don't need help to park my ass down!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo dismissed, choosing not to comment on the fact that she was leaning rather heavily against the person she supposedly wanted no help from. "You're _seven months_ pregnant, Karin. With _twins_. So quit your whining and lemme help."

Karin grumbled, but didn't protest further, allowing Ichigo to get her seated in the space beside him, one which was that much more crowded now that the raven haired twin was occupying it. Ichigo didn't complain though. Much like Yuzu, Karin had changed so much over the years – aside from the obvious, that is. Her own jet black hair had grown out, still as poker-straight as it ever was, only now long enough to reach midway down her back, sweeping bangs cut into place to give her once tomboyish looks a more feminine appeal. Her dark grey eyes were lined with black eyeliner and framed prettily with a light coating of mascara, though that was definitely her limit on the make-up front, the older twin drawing a deep and definite line at the use of blusher or lipstick. Yes she was more feminine than she had ever been, but she would never be 'girly'. Ichigo would be willing to bet that even being pregnant was pushing too much on that boundary as it was.

Dressed in a black maternity shirt with a white envelope and 'inbox 2' printed across the stomach, and loose fitting grey sweats, his younger sister was positively glowing. In spite of her frankly _terrifying_ mood swings and a questionable palate that he dare say rivalled that of his high school friend Orihime Inoue, the orange haired male had the sneaking suspicion that Karin was rather enjoying the early stages of motherhood. He himself couldn't help but take a guilty pleasure in it also, having never had the chance to indulge in his own daughter's growth and development from within the womb.

"I just wish everyone would stop kicking up such a fuss every damn time I do something on my own," Karin huffed once they were settled, one hand supporting her weight behind her back as the other drew lazy patterns over the large swell of her abdomen. "I can't even go to the fucking _bathroom_ without _someone_ trying to follow me!"

"Karin-chan!" Yuzu protested from where she sat in the grass with Nelliel, her brows pulled together in a frustrated frown. "You shouldn't swear in front of the babies!"

Karin gave a soft growl, too low for Yuzu to hear, but not Ichigo. "They're not even born yet!"

"Think of the karma!" Yuzu chided, expertly dividing her attention between her stubborn sibling and her little niece.

Karin scoffed, muttering, "Karma can kiss my fat, preggers ass."

Ichigo chuckled at that. He was tempted to swat the raven haired girl on the back of the head for her pissy attitude, but quickly decided against it. He certainly didn't want to be caught on the receiving end of one of her tantrums, one that she would later blame on a surge of hormones just to get out of apologising for. Yeah, _no thanks_.

"So, where's the proud daddy-to-be?" he inquired as he leaned back on his own hands, tilting his head into the warming rays of the sun.

Karin mimicked his actions, sighing contentedly. "He's working. Pulling double shifts in fact, since I obviously can't work anymore."

Ichigo nodded his blatant approval. Tōshirō Hitsugaya was Karin's boyfriend of nearly four years now, the two having met back in college. Karin was eighteen, enrolling in her first year of a Sport and Exercise Science Degree, whereas Tōshirō was just finishing up his own Masters in Engineering. To say that Ichigo was shocked upon finding out that not only was the young man the same age as his sister, but that the white haired wonder had finished his course a whole year ahead of schedule, would be a grave understatement. The kid was surely a genius if ever there was one; a real boy prodigy. He still hadn't figured out what he wanted to do with his life, and so, seeing how Karin was on maternity leave from her job as Physical Education instructor at Karakura High, he'd taken on odd jobs here and there to support his vastly growing family. Even given his serious and often overtly mature disposition, Ichigo couldn't find much fault with the man. After all, here he was with a heavily pregnant girlfriend, about to embark into parenthood – something no amount of booksmarts could help him with – and he'd really stepped up to the responsibility. He was nothing if not honourable.

_Yes_, Ichigo mentally concluded._ Karin and Tōshirō would make wonderful parents._ Perhaps a bit rocky in the beginning, but honestly, who didn't cock up every once in a while? Now, if it were Jinta who'd gone and knocked up dear Yuzu… Well, let's just say the miserable sod would never have to worry about reproducing ever again.

Time began to filter by quite lazily, Ichigo soon forgetting he was ever angry as he sat and simply enjoyed the happy aura of his family. That all shattered, however, when Isshin suddenly stepped back onto the scene, and for once it had nothing to do with that gaudy, yellow Hawaiian shirt of his. The eldest Kurosaki's face was noticeably troubled as he popped his head out the back door, his eyes immediately picking Ichigo out from the herd.

"Ichigo, can I talk to you a moment?" he asked, his tone as serious as Ichigo had heard it all day. "Inside, if you don't mind," he added as he stepped back through the door.

Frowning, Ichigo rose to his feet, dusting off his pants as he went.

"Oooh~" Karin taunted from where she sat, giving him a sly smirk. "Someone's _totally_ getting' busted for sticking their fingers in the birthday cake frosting!"

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu piped up, her face scrunched up in motherly reprimand. "You better not have! I didn't slave away all day making the perfect cake for you to ruin it before Nelly even sees it!"

"That's okay!" Nelliel beamed from Yuzu's lap, tugging on the older woman's dress to regain her attention. "I'll eat it all anyways. Your cooking's the greatest ever – daddy's gross man fingers could never ruin it!"

Yuzu smiled down on her, gently petting her hair, leaving Ichigo to roll his eyes and storm off, leaving the trio of girls with a scathing; "I didn't even touch the damn thing!"

Attempting to slam the door behind him – a feat that didn't work particularly well when taking into consideration that it was a _sliding_ door – Ichigo made his way through the kitchen, only just resisting the urge to plant his whole damn fist through the middle of said birthday cake, innocently sitting on the small island as he passed. God was it ever tempting, though.

Upon entering the living room, his inner musings ground to a halt when faced with a grave looking Isshin, a shocking contrast to the rowdy stallion from earlier. Frown etching further into his brow, Ichigo crossed his arms.

"Well? What's this all about, old man? In case you hadn't noticed, I have a daughter's birthday to celebrate."

Isshin scratched at his chin and sucked on his teeth. No point in beating around the bush.

"That was Rangiku-san from the hospital on the phone," he began, watching as his only son visibly tensed at his words. "They just admitted a patient beaten to within an inch of his life. He was dumped at the front doors, bleeding out and barely conscious. He was only able to mutter one word before he passed out… _'Ichigo'_."

Ichigo blanched, swallowing thickly as he literally felt the blood draining from his face. "…A-And?"

Isshin drew in a deep breath, readying himself for whatever might come as he reiterated the nurse's words. "They have him in the ER right now, but it's touch-and-go. Ichigo, my boy…the man was described as around six-two, late twenties, having a tanned complexion and…bright blue hair."

Ichigo's heart instantly plummeted.

* * *

><p>Ichigo had little doubt that he'd broken a good law or <em>ten<em> on his race to the hospital, his heart in constant turmoil and his breathing erratic at best. After promptly losing what he'd eaten for lunch that day in the depths of the kitchen sink, Isshin had told him that he would keep an eye on the girls, Nelliel especially, leaving Ichigo free to book it down town.

Having neither the patience nor the mental capacity to park his car properly, he simply abandoned the black 2004 Honda Civic Type R in the lot, caring not one fucking iota if the damn thing got towed and impounded.

Sprinting through the automatic doors, he narrowly missed a few nasty collisions with other patients and visitors, before skidding to a halt in front of the nurse his father had spoken to, a woman he'd known ever since her internship; one Rangiku Matsumoto.

"Whoa there, tiger!" Rangiku yelped, catching Ichigo by the shoulders before he collapsed in a tangled heap in front of her. The poor boy was clearly struggling to draw in a breath. "You nearly took out an old lady in a zimmer frame!"

"Grimm…Gr-Grimmjow…" Ichigo panted, clinging on to the front of her nurses' uniform – and for once not in the least bit concerned that her criminally gigantic bust was literally cushioned right under his fingertips. "Where is…where is he…?"

"Grimmjow?" Rangiku asked, her pouty lips pursing in confusion moments before her steel-blue shone with recognition. "Oh! You mean the John Doe? So that's his name… Huh. How fitting. An exotic name for such an exotic looking patient~"

If Ichigo wasn't so adverse to the idea, he'd have slapped the dim-witted strawberry blonde by now. "Focus, Rangiku!" he snapped, his ochre eyes flaring with panic. "Where is he? Is he alright? What happened? Can I see him?"

"Aa, chill out, Ichigo!" Rangiku replied, patting the manic boy on the shoulder in a placating manner. "If you don't start breathing soon, you'll end up occupying the bed right next to the blue haired wonder."

Ichigo glared, but tried to school his exerted panting all the same. "Rangiku…"

"Ehhh, no need to shoot the messenger," the busty woman pouted, draping an arm around Ichigo's shoulders as she led them down the corridor. "Your handsome man-friend is perfectly fine – he's stabilised and in recovery."

Ichigo scrubbed both hands over his face, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank God…" he muttered quietly to himself, a warming sense of calm filling his veins and chasing away the cold sense of dread that had settled down around his heart. Fuck, he was getting too old for this shit. Shifting his gaze to the ditzy nurse, he asked, "What the hell happened to him?"

Rangiku shrugged, navigating them around a corner. "We honestly have no idea. He came in with multiple lacerations to the torso, a fractured left wrist, two broken ribs, heavy bruising to that beautiful face~" insert dramatic, dreamy sigh here, "and a pretty severe concussion."

"Shit," Ichigo mumbled, grimacing at each new piece of information. Sure, over the years they'd been together, Ichigo had had to tend to the odd, garish wound or two – Grimmjow collapsing through the front door of their family clinic when he was barely nineteen years of age being their first ever encounter – but it had never been _this_ bad. Or at least, not all in one go. It had never been enough to land the older man in hospital, somewhere he made Ichigo _swear_ he would _never_ take him, no matter how bad he looked. Neither one of them wanted to contemplate what might happen to the older male should the cops ever go poking their nose in.

"We managed to stop the bleeding, luckily none of it was internal," Rangiku continued, slowing down as they neared their destination. "We've given him a blood transfusion, and he's now on an IV drip to replace any lost fluids, not to mention enough sedatives to take down a rampant rhino. He probably wont wake up for a few hours yet, but don't worry, since you're Isshin's boy I'll pull some strings, make sure you can stay until he revives himself." Giving Ichigo a saucy wink, she opened the door to the room they'd stopped in front of, standing aside to let him pass. "Go get 'im, tiger."

Nodding dumbly and uttering his gratitude, Ichigo entered the room, letting the door fall closed with a soft _click_ behind him. Christ, he'd almost forgotten how much he truly hated hospitals until he finally took in his surroundings; white walls, white floor, white bed linens, the god-awful smell of disinfectant and utter cleanliness making his stomach lurch and his mouth feel like he was chewing on cotton wool. And then there was the incessant _beeping_ of those infernal _machines_…the ones currently hooked up to and monitoring the progress of his blue haired love.

Steeling himself, Ichigo ventured deeper into the room, his teeth gritting at the infuriating squeak his shoes made on the spotless linoleum floor as he walked. His heart panged wretchedly in his chest, tears springing unbidden to his ochre eyes as his gaze settled on the practically comatose blunette.

Sinking into a horribly rigid chair conveniently placed by the bedside, Ichigo reached out with a trembling hand to his medically slumbering lover. Curling his fingers around the unresponsive ones of the blunette, he bit hard into his lip, his eyes tracing over every visible cut, lesion and darkened bruise not otherwise covered by the light bed sheet.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Damn it, Grimm…" he murmured, his heart choking up his throat as he tried desperately to keep his broken sobs at bay, a few wayward tears escaping undeterred from the corners of his eyes despite his efforts. Gripping the cool hand tighter, he rest his head in the crook of the man's elbow – the one _minus_ a lengthy needle.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"You'd better wake up soon, bastard," he told him, his eyes teary in spite of the dangerous tone.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Please…_please_ wake up…"

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"…I love you, Grimmjow…"

* * *

><p>Rangiku was right; Grimmjow didn't stir in the slightest until damn near midnight. Ichigo, who had been slipping in and out of fretful dozes for the past few hours due to a few false alarms, was instantly up and alert the very <em>second<em> Grimmjow's fingers twitched around his own, the man's face scrunching up in evident pain as he slowly, agonizingly, came to.

"Grimm?" Ichigo asked, his voice dripping with relief and enthusiasm. "Grimm, can you hear me? Are you alright? Do you need something? Anything?"

Grimmjow groaned, taking several long, torturous moments to chronicle his every ache and pain – and by _fuck_, were there a shit-tonne of those – before attempting to pry open his ridiculously heavy eyelids. His vision was bleary, not to mention vastly limited within the now darkened room, the only light source a small lamp on the bedside table – shit, was it even _possible_ for your eyes to ache like this? – though he didn't exactly _require _sight to know who it was clutching so fervidly at his arm. Which also hurt like a bitch, just in case you're wondering.

Trying his damnedest to get some moisture going in his dryer-than-the-fucking-Savannah mouth, he gave speech a tentative first stab. "B-Berry…" Well, that was a fucking failure of epic proportions. His voice sounded like it'd been dragged across a cheese grater, and then shredded for good measure. Luckily for him though, Ichigo was already coming to his aid, a plastic cup of cold, fresh water presented to him after the gruelling task of getting him into a semi-upright position.

Avidly accepting the gift, Grimmjow downed the refreshment like it was the sweetest ambrosia, his parched throat practically singing out in praise. "Aa, fuck," he sighed, sinking back against the pillow Ichigo had busied himself propping up for him. "That's much better."

"Do you want more?" inquired Ichigo, already on his way to refill the cup from the cooler in the corner before he'd received the answer. Grimmjow gave a mental shrug – the real thing jarring too many injuries for comfort – waiting patiently for his pretty Berry to bring him his liquid aid.

Accepting the cup a second time, though making a conscious effort to drain the contents at a more languid pace, Grimmjow roved his eyes subtly over his young lover's form, trying to gauge just how much shit he was about to find himself in. Reading nothing more than palpable relief shining from those stunning ochre orbs, Grimmjow delicately reached out to him, brushing his fingertips across Ichigo's cheek.

Ichigo gave a tired exhale, leaning into the touch. "How do you feel?"

Grimmjow snorted, wincing when the action reminded him of several bruises and tender ribs. "Like shit," he answered honestly, grinning minutely at his lover's evident concern. "I'll live though, if that's what you're worried about."

"That's good," Ichigo hummed, gently grasping the blunette's wrist to place a quiet, amorous kiss against his palm. "I'm so happy you're safe…"

Grimmjow couldn't help but notice that the once tender pressure around his wrist was steadily increasing, causing him to damn near whimper in pain. "Uh, Ichi…_shit_. Ya wanna ease up a bit?"

Completely ignoring the frantic request, Ichigo clenched his jaw alongside his fingers. "You misunderstand me, Grimmjow," he began, his tone all of a sudden dark and menacing. "I'm only glad you're safe because it gives _me_ the satisfaction of killing you with my own two hands!"

Grimmjow clutched his newly abused wrist to his chest as soon as Ichigo let up, the orange haired male rising up out of his chair so fast the thing clattered to the floor behind him. Hn. It would seem that Grimmjow's fantasies of a skimpily clad _'Berry-nurse'_ were little more than just that, the younger male positively growling in fury as he glared down on him.

"Damn. What the hell's your problem, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow groused, feeling incredibly vulnerable in the face of Ichigo's tangible anger. If he didn't play his cards right, the small space he occupied would end up becoming his deathbed.

Ichigo could feel his nostrils flaring, his balled up fists shaking at his sides. "What's my_ problem?_ Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Grimmjow had the good grace to at least look sheepish at his choice of words. "I was at my father's, celebrating Nelliel's _birthday_, waiting for _hours_ for you to show up – only to get the fright of my fucking _life_ when my dad tells me that you're here! In fucking _hospital!_ Jesus Christ, Grimm! He told me you'd been beaten almost to death, that it was touch-and-go! I thought I was going to lose you, you prick!" Forcing himself to stop, to take a deep breath and calm his rattled nerves before he did something unbelievably stupid – like _actually_ murdering the other – Ichigo averted his gaze off to the side, adrenaline flowing thick through his veins as tears pricked hotly in his ducts. "I thought I'd lost you this time…like, _for good_. It made me physically sick, Grimm…"

Grimmjow just let the other vent, not daring to interject or interrupt lest he lose a limb. Ichigo looked dog-tired, those beautiful eyes brimming with unshed tears as he righted his chair and sat down, still pointedly avoiding his gaze. _He_ watched though, noticing how peachy fingers trembled slightly when they raked through luminous orange hair, how pearly teeth pulled and worried pink lips as the younger clearly strained to say whatever it was that was on his mind, how gorgeous features struggled to find an emotion to settle on; furious, anxious, upset…

And then he spoke.

"I can't do this."

Grimmjow blinked, sincerely hoping he'd heard that wrong – or was, at the very fucking least, taking it out of context.

Sitting up that little bit straighter, he glowered. "I'm sorry…_what?_"

Ichigo gave a solemn shake of the head, before finally flicking his gaze up to meet stormy cerulean. "I said I can't do this," he repeated, his tone firm in spite of his heart splintering into microscopic little pieces. "Shit, Grimm, I know we said we'd try a couple of months back, but I…I mean _this_, it's…fuck. I can't take it anymore. I can't just ignore the fact that one day your fucking _'job'_ will land you right back in here, and that next time you might not be so lucky. My heart can't stand much more of this; the worrying and fighting and turmoil… It's too much."

Feeling decidedly nauseas again, Ichigo rose on shaky legs, sheer determination alone keeping him from throwing himself at the blunette's mercy, from curling himself into those strong arms and begging Grimmjow to take all the heartache away. He _had_ to see it through this time, he'd only end up regretting it at a later date if he didn't; of that he was certain. Giving Grimmjow's hand one last squeeze, tears now rolling uncaring down his cheeks, he locked his gaze resolutely to blazing, oceanic blue.

"I'm sorry, Grimm. I really, truly am."

_'I love you'_ he just couldn't bring himself to say, the words catching painfully in his throat as he turned to leave, his heart breaking anew and with a certain, ice cold sense of finality.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow hollered, pitching forward to seize the retreating figure by the back of his shirt. Cursing every deity under the sun when the sudden action jarred every single one of his wounds, nearly wrenching the IV needle from his arm in the process, he grit his teeth against the torrent of pain and physically hauled the orange haired male back to his side. "Hold the fuck up, Berry," he growled, pushing the hemming younger male back into his seat. "The hell, Ichigo? Ya think ya can just say your piece an' then _leave?_ I don't fuckin' think so. It takes two people to end a relationship, an' I ain't goin' anywhere – _especially_ not after what I did for you."

Ichigo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. He should've known better than to think he could end it as quick and as painless as possible. Honestly, didn't Grimmjow know that he was only trying to do what was best for him, what was best for the _both_ of them? If he'd only let go and–

Whoa, hang on a sec…what did he just say?

Snapping his head up, Ichigo gave voice to his thoughts, "Wait, what do you mean by that?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Oh yeah, _now_ Ichigo was willing to listen, _after_ he damn near gave himself a fucking hernia. Figures…

"If you'd given me even _one second_ to explain before ya went an' flipped your fuckin' lid, I could'a saved us both the hassle of listenin' to that whole 'woe-is-me' spiel…" Grimmjow huffed, glaring heatedly at the younger as he sat back again, adequately convinced Ichigo would stick around to hear him out this time. _One can only hope. _"Didn't ya think it a lil' strange that I'm here in the first place? That after how many years workin' for that pompous prick with little more than a scratch here an' there, I suddenly end up clingin' to life by a mere thread?"

Ichigo frowned, not seeing the connection. "Well, yeah actually, I did. But I just assumed that something had gone seriously tits up and you'd been caught in the middle of it."

"Thanks for the bout of confidence there, Berry," Grimmjow sneered. "_This_," he gestured vaguely to his horridly battered person, "is considered as my one an' only warnin'."

"Warning? Of what, exactly?"

Grimmjow gave his trademark feral smirk at that, those cerulean pools teeming with newfound life. "I'm out, Ichi."

Ichigo blinked, not following in the slightest, his deadpan facial expression attesting as much. Grimmjow heaved a dejected sigh; so much for his gloriously triumphant news.

"Fuck me, ya really are dense sometimes," he muttered, still grinning manically as he yanked his pretty lover close. "I'm _out_, Berry – as in done, finished, currently unemployed…take your fuckin' pick."

Realisation dawned slowly on Ichigo, and he scarcely dared to believe his ears. "R-Really? You mean it?"

"Shit, this would be one helluv'n elaborate prank," Grimmjow drawled sarcastically, his heart fluttering warmly at the sight of Ichigo's evident joy. "I've been workin' on gettin' out for weeks, pretty much since we got back together. That bastard Aizen looked fuckin' ecstatic to see me go. He never did like me, always complainin' that I was too much of a loose canon or some shit. He told me to expect my 'honourable discharge' in the comin' weeks. I swear to the Almighty above I had no fuckin' clue he would pick today, Ichi – I wouldn't put it past the pretentious asshole to do it on purpose, probably somehow knowin' it was Nelly's birthday."

"So wait…your _boss_ did this to you?"

"Tch, as if that dick would ever dirty his hands doin' his own grunt work. Naw, he sent his ever faithful lapdogs to bloody me up – fuckin' bastards enjoyed every single second of it, too, practically laughin' their asses off as I had to sit there an' take it. In a way I was lucky, that fucker Tosen wanted to hack my whole fuckin' arm off!"

Ichigo's stomach churned at the mere thought. "Christ, Grimm. They could've _killed_ you…"

Grimmjow shook his head. "This ain't nothin' but a small _taster_ of what's to come, instillin' my loyalty as it were, should I ever feel the need to play nark on their little 'shenanigans'. Basically, this is just a friendly warnin', declarin'; squeal, an' next time we _will_ finish what we started."

Ichigo repressed a shudder, sitting up beside Grimmjow to gently wrap his arms around his neck, mindful not to put too much pressure on the injured man. A wide smile was curling his lips, the potent elation stretching all the way to his eyes.

"I can't believe it," he breathed, itching something fierce to just launch himself at the blunette. "I can't believe you went through all this just for me."

"And Nel," Grimmjow corrected, winding his arms around Ichigo's waist.

Ichigo's smile stretched even wider as he lowered his forehead to rest against his lover's, his whole being flooding with giddy warmth. "Thank you, Grimmjow. I don't know how I'll ever be able to pay you back for what you've done, but know that you have my eternal gratitude."

Grimmjow hummed, tilting his head just enough to rub his nose affectionately against the younger's. "Y'know, a kiss would be a rather nice start…"

Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle. "You got it."

Forgetting themselves entirely, both men gladly surged into the embrace, a willing and eager meeting of mouths sparking jolts of excited electricity through both their veins – until Grimmjow suddenly groaned, his face pinching in pain as a few different sore spots were rattled.

Ichigo immediately drew back, his eyes flashing with concern. "Shit, sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"A little," Grimmjow admitted, rubbing gingerly at his jaw before promptly shrugging his shoulders. "Y'know what? Fuck it. I'll just load up on meds later. C'mere, kitten."

Ichigo allowed himself to be manhandled into another searing kiss, pouring all of the burning happiness and undying love he had stored up inside into the fervent contact, sighing pleasantly through his nose as strong hands held him close, his love wordlessly returned with every ounce of strength the blunette possessed. Finally, _finally_, he wouldn't have to fret and worry himself stupid over Grimmjow's safety. No more restless nights wondering if tonight was the night he wouldn't come home. No more arguing over dirty money begot off of the blood of others. No more tears shed for a man he wanted nothing more to do with, and yet never had the strength to simply turn his back on. It was all over. The three of them could start again, afresh and revived, like the almighty phoenix – rising from the ashes of the past and blazing into a better, brighter future.

As Ichigo threw himself, body, heart, and soul, into Grimmjow's passion laden embrace, he could only hope and pray that it was true.

* * *

><p><em><strong>One Year Later<strong>_

Grimmjow couldn't help but smirk as he let himself into his home – _their home_ – late one Friday evening. He was absolutely beat, his feet, back and neck killing him, his arms and face sporting flecks of grime and dirt after a gruelling day at the building site he was currently assigned. It had taken a few months to actually find any work, and he'd had to fudge a few key details on his application – 'good with firearms, large and small' and 'surprisingly adept with lengths of piano wire' apparently not such glowing qualities when looking for honest work – but he'd persevered, and eventually landed himself a fair enough gig as a construction worker. The work was tiresome, the hours long, and the pay nowhere even _close_ to what he used to make for a single hit, but at least it was something. And bonus, he sometimes got to blow shit up.

Kicking his heavy, mud-caked boots off at the door, the grinning blunette made his way into the living room where he could hear the TV playing an old rerun of some sitcom he'd never bothered to watch. Making sure his surprise was concealed within the confines of his black leather bomber jacket, he cracked open the door and peered inside, his insides bunching in the best kind of way at his findings. Nelliel was curled up on the plush, faux-fur rug in front of the fireplace, coloured pencils and sheets of paper – some still pristine white, and others depicting the young girl's own interpretation of 'art' – littered all around her as she slept soundly. And then there was Ichigo, who was sprawled out on his front on the leather couch, his face buried in the armrest and arms curled up underneath him as he dozed away, a small well of drool at the corner of his mouth making the picture almost too cute for words.

Scoffing at the fact that his precautions were now deemed unnecessary, Grimmjow ambled in, carefully retracting the furry surprise from the depths of his jacket as he hunkered down in front of his clearly worn out daughter. Setting the little ball of quivering fuzz down by the girl's face, he went and sat down on the floor by his Berry's head, flicking said male repeatedly between orange tinted brows until they scrunched up and he groaned in frustration.

"Dammit…" came the sleep-riddled rebuke, a peach hued hand attempting to swat away the provoking annoyance. Irritably slitting his eyes open, the first sight Ichigo witnessed was a major close-up of Grimmjow's smirking face.

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine," Grimmjow purred as Ichigo propped himself up on his forearms, rubbing groggily at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Mm, hey Grimm," he mumbled, a wide-jawed yawn making his eyes tear up. "Welcome home."

Grimmjow grinned at the adorable sight, leaning up to kiss his rousing lover. "Ta, babe."

As this was going on, the timid creature abandoned to its own devices mewed uncertainly, frightened that its carer had left it all alone to fend for itself. The soft, nervous sound caught Ichigo's attention instantly, the orange haired male quickly locating the source. Frowning, he rubbed at his eyes again, just in case he was seeing things…

…Nope. Definitely still there.

"Grimm…?" Ichigo began, his ochre orbs fixated on the tiny mass of static white fur. "What the hell is that?"

Grimmjow clicked his tongue. "Ya fuckin' blind? Or just stupid? It's a kitten, obviously."

Ichigo scowled at that. "Yes, _thank you_, I can see that much. I meant what is it doing here?"

"Shhh!" Grimmjow suddenly hushed him, watching animatedly as the kitten sought out the nearest heat source; aka the slumbering Nelliel.

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the ignorance, but smiled nonetheless at the excited gleam to his lover's captivating aquamarine pools, resting his cheek on the blunette's shoulder and draping an arm across his muscular chest as he joined him in observing the spectacle.

Mewing cutely to try and gain the attention of the human, the kitten crawled ever closer to the girl's face. When sound alone didn't invoke a reaction, the tiny creature intermixed vocals with a velvety soft paw to the human's nose, rubbing it's petite form against a warm cheek as it moved.

Grimmjow, never once breaking his gaze from the proceedings, reached up to blindly interlace his fingers with Ichigo's, giving his own version of a rumbling purr when his pretty Berry kissed amorously at his neck. Excitement welled up in his chest when Nelliel slowly began to stir, the downy soft fur of the kitten's pelt clearly tickling her face.

Wheaten eyes slowly blinked open, going cross-eyed as she tried to focus on the shining, crystal blue eyes staring straight back at her. Another timid mew, coupled with an eager bat to the face, had Nelliel quickly putting two and two together, her jubilant giggles filling the room as she sat up and gathered the little kitten carefully into her arms.

It took several minutes of cooing and general, girlish sounds of delight before Nelliel eventually tore her gaze away from the happily purring animal, her beaming grin so wide it threatened to split her face in half.

"Is the kitty mine?" she asked, her tone brimming with hope.

Ichigo sucked on his teeth, pretending to mull the question over. "Hn, I dunno… Looking after a pet is an awful big responsibility. What do you think, Grimm?"

"Ya got a point there, Ichi," Grimmjow smirked, playing his part flawlessly. Nelliel gasped, snuggling the kitten protectively against her chest, her eyes wide and pleading. Grimmjow chuckled. "Then again, she _is_ ten years old today – that's double digits."

Ichigo hummed, nodding in concurrence. "Ten is pretty mature, I guess. Maybe she is ready…?"

"I am!" Nelliel cried, nodding her head frantically up and down, as if the intensity of her actions might sway her parents' decision. "I promise I'll take good care of him! I'll feed him an' pet him an' play with him every day! Honest!"

"'Her'", Grimmjow amended with a smile. "It's a girl."

"Please let me keep her," Nelliel begged, scratching beneath the kitten's chin and eliciting an even louder purr. "Oh,_ pleeeeeease~!_ I love her already~!"

Swatting at Grimmjow's chest, Ichigo sighed, his willpower against 'The Look' crumbling faster than a cheap deck of cards. "Put the poor girl out of her misery."

Smirking wildly, Grimmjow inclined his head at the simpering child. "Alright, Apple, ya can keep the beast. Consider her my apology for missin' out on your big day last year."

Nelliel gave a shriek of pure delight, mindful of the little animal nestled in her arms as she scampered over to her parents. "Thank you so much! I swear I'll love her forever!"

Giving a hearty chuckle at the childish claim, Grimmjow gathered his daughter into his lap, pressing a doting kiss to her temple. "Happy birthday, kiddo."

Smiling fondly at the picture, Ichigo used his free hand to reach across Grimmjow's right shoulder, petting his fingers lovingly through Nelliel's silky green tresses. "So, have you thought of what you might like to call your new pet?"

"I like Shirayuki," Nelliel informed them, nuzzling her face against the kitten's. "It's pretty, just like her."

Both males gave a nod of approval, gazing down on their beloved as she cuddled and fussed over the snowy animal. Ichigo, sensing the perfect opportunity whilst Nelliel was otherwise engaged, fisted a hand in Grimmjow's electric teal mane, tugging his head back so that he had ample access to those rough lips. Grinning when petal soft lips enclosed over his own, Grimmjow happily returned the heated, sinful contact, his tongue plundering the sweet cavern of his lover's mouth with ample vigour and a frankly soul-sucking passion.

Retreating just enough to formulate coherent words, Ichigo smiled down through hooded eyes at his one and only love. "I love you, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

Grimmjow returned the look tenfold, his lips quirking up into possibly the most genuine, ardent laced smile to ever grace his face. Oh yes, this is most _definitely_ where he belonged; right here, with his fiery lover, their beautiful daughter, and now little Shirayuki.

Pecking at the tempting lips whispering so very sensually over his own, whilst simultaneously folding his left arm tighter around Nelliel, Grimmjow gave his reply, his husky baritone holding nothing but a resolute promise, a wholly eternal vow;

"And I love you, my delectable lil' Strawberry."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I did it... I finished a story... Yeah, okay, so it was short - by which I mean chapter length, not necessarily wordcount length... But_ I did it~!_ Oooh, I feel all tingly an' accomplished ^^ *happy, rumbly purrrrr***

**Anywho~**

**N'awwwh. Who doesn't love a sappy, mushy, feel-good-inc endin'~? ... You don't? Oh. My apologies *humble bow* Fer those of yah who _do_ love such an endin' though, please do enjoy what I managed ta haphazardly hash out fer yahs (: I had a lot of fun with this chapter - havin' not put _any_ forethought into the additional characters backgrounds _whatsoever_, it turned out immensely fun ta just 'wing it'! I mean, Karin's _pregnant?_ What tha chuff! Tha' just damn well cropped up out'a nowhere! But again, uber fun~ ^^ Yuzu an' Karin look so pretty in mah head, all grown up an' what not - I hope yah'll who read this final instalment got a pretty picture too.**

**Eep. So, yeah... Tha's it folks! Fer this one, at any rate. I really hope any an' all of yah who read/reviewed/alerted were happy with the - let's be honest - damnably _long_ ride, an' enjoyed the final conclusion as much as tha rest (: I actually toyed with the idea of havin' Grimm-kitten *cough*_killedoff_*coughcoughcough*, an' then was gonna let Tosen lop off his arm... but I honestly couldn't stomach ta do either in tha end. Am so weak fer givin' Grimm-yums what he wants - which we all know is our pretty Ichi-Berry *purr***

**Again, please do read an' enjoy at yer own peril mah sweets, an' thanks so much fer takin' tha time ta do so~ Big, wet, Nelly-esque kissies to yah all! *Mmmmmmwah* Honestly can't express mah gratitude enough ^^**

**Ciao fer now**

**Toringtino**

**~x~**


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